QK. 


MISCELLANIES. 


REV.    JAMES    MAETINEATJ. 


BOSTON: 
WM.  CROSBY  AND  H.  P.  NICHOLS, 

111  WASHINGTON  STREET. 

NEW  YOKK: 
C.    S.    FRANCIS    AND    COMPANY. 

1852. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1851,  by 
WM.  CROSBY  AND   H.  P.  NICHOLS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


CAMBRIDGE: 
METCALF  AND  COMPANY, 

PRINTERS   TO  THE   UNIVERSITY. 


PEE  F  AC  E. 


MR.  MARTINEAU  is  already  known  to  a  wide  cir- 
cle of  grateful  readers  in  this  country  by  the  two 
volumes  of  "  Endeavors  after  the  Christian  Life." 
A  desire  has  often  been  expressed  by  those  who 
have  been  familiar  with  his  miscellaneous  papers, 
that  they  should  be  collected  in  a  volume.  In  re- 
sponse to  such  requests,  a  few  of  them  are  brought 
together  and  offered  here;  and  the  publishers  feel 
that  they  are  discharging  a  duty,  in  redeeming  ar- 
ticles of  such  a  character  from  their  seclusion  in  the 
English  periodicals,  and  bringing  them  to  the  notice 
of  the  American  public. 

Any  thing  in  the  nature  of  a  review,  or  extended 
advertisement  of  their  merits  here,  would  be  as  in- 
delicate as  it  is  unnecessary.  The  rare  qualities  of 


IV  PREFACE. 

genius  that  distinguish  Mr.  Martineau's  writings  are 
apparent  to  every  competent  reader.  It  will  be  seen 
that  high  themes  are  discussed  in  this  volume,  and 
great  names  examined,  that  'stand  for  widely  dif- 
ferent religious  systems.  The  treatment,  we  are 
sure,  will  not  be  found  unworthy  of  the  subjects,  but 
distinguished  by  a  loftiness  of  tone,  a  catholic  candor, 
a  severity  of  logic  and  intellectual  fidelity  amid  all 
the  difficulties  of  the  question  in  hand,  a  clearness 
of  moral  discrimination,  and  an  affluence  of  imagery 
and  vigorous  precision  of  expression,  which,  how- 
ever unusual,  will  not  surprise  those  who  are  ac- 
quainted with  any  of  the  author's  productions,  and 
cannot  fail  to  make  these  papers  valuable  and  wel- 
come to  all  earnest  thinkers,  even  to  such  as  cannot 
come  into  full  sympathy  with  the  theories  of  faith 
and  the  estimates  of  men  which  are  offered  to  their 
consideration. 

A  better  service  could  hardly  be  done,  in  the  pres- 
ent state  and  tendencies  of  theological  opinion 
among  the  liberal  Christians  of  this  country,  than  to 
give  a  selection  from  the  theological  discourses  and 
philosophical  miscellanies  of  Mr.  Martineau,  which 


PREFACE. 


treat  prominently  and  discuss  thoroughly  the  re- 
lations of  faith  and  records,  and  the  differences  be- 
tween a  spiritual  and  a  sacrificial  religion.  The 
present  volume,  not  having  been  arranged  with  such 
reference,  can  only  in  part  fulfil  such  a  service.  Nei- 
ther does  the  selection  here  made  do  full  justice  to 
their  author.  It  is  not,  probably,  such  as  he  would 
have  made,  if  scientific  and  literary  considerations 
had  controlled  his  choice.  Certainly  it  is  to  be  re- 
gretted that  the  papers  on  "Whewell's  Systematic 
Morality,"  "  MorelTs  History  of  Modern  Philos- 
ophy," "  Dr.  Channing's  Memoirs,"  "  Mesmeric  Athe- 
ism," and  "  The  Creed  of  Christendom,"  could  not 
have  accompanied  the  larger,  and  perhaps  more 
timely  articles,  on  the  Church  of  England,  and  the 
Battle  of  the  Churches.  These  last,  however,  have 
already  excited  such  notice  and  admiration  in  this 
country,  that  their  insertion  seemed  imperatively 
called  for,  and,  by  publishing  them  in  connection  with 
the  essay  on  "  Church  and  State,"  unity  of  theme 
and  interest  is  gained  for  a  large  portion  of  the, 
volume.  The  other  papers,  with  more  of  kindred 
topics,  are  in  reserve  for  a  second  volume,  should 


VI  PREFACE. 

another  be  required.  In  the  hope  that  the  taste  of 
our  community  may  be  exhibited  in  such  a  demand, 
the  present  collection  is  commended  to  the  public. 

It  may  not  be  amiss  to  state,  that  the  article  on 
Dr.  Priestley  has  been  revised,  and  several  errors  of 
the  English  press  in  other  essays  have  been  cor- 
rected, for  this  edition,  by  the  author. 

T.  S.  K. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

THE  LIFE,  CHARACTER,  AND  WORKS  OF  DR.  PRIEST- 
LEY,         1 

THE   LIFE   AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF  THOMAS   AR- 
NOLD, D.  D., 56 

CHURCH  AND  STATE, 105 

THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION,          .     163 

PHASES  OF  FAITH, 216 

THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND, 281 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES,  .         .         .        373 


2  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

hint  that  any  thing  which  swims  so  near  the  source 
of  light  and  heat  endangers  the  world's  temperature, 
and  will  burn  us  up  as  it  sweeps  by ;  and  many  are 
the  years  on  whose  darkness  it  must  shine,  ere  its 
course  be  traced,  and  it  be  found  to  be  humanity's 
morning  and  evening  star.  The  time  necessary  for 
the  appreciation  of  a  conspicuous  mind  will  vary 
according  to  the  nature  of  its  genius  and  the  state 
of  society  in  which  it  is  put  forth  ;  but  in  proportion 
as  it  addresses  itself  to  the  general  mind,  and  finds 
access  to  the  general  mind,  will  a  true  verdict  be 
speedily  passed.  Large  masses  of  men  are  more 
just,  more  discerning,  more  generous,  than  small; 
more  ashamed  of  all  petty  passions ;  less  inclined  to 
idolatry  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  envy  on  the  other. 
Imaginative  genius,  which  in  these  days  speaks  to  a 
splendid  audience,  standing  amid  an  amphitheatre 
of  nations,  receives  an  answer  of  glorious  acclaim  to 
its  cry  of  "  Plaudlte  !  "  while  originality  in  science, 
in  theology,  and  even  in  political  philosophy,  appre- 
ciable at  first  only  by  schools  and  sects  of  men, 
waits  for  justice  till  the  school  or  the  sect  becomes, 
in  numbers  and  intelligence,  coextensive  with  so- 
ciety at  large.  Scott  and  Byron  have  received  the 
homage  of  their  own  times  ;  but  such  men  as  Priest- 
ley or  Bentham  must  wait  the  revolutions  of  opinion, 
and  the  regeneration  of  social  institutions,  before  the 
due  rites  of  honor  are  enacted  over  their  graves. 

Posterity,  like  Providence,  rewards  men  according 
to  their  deeds.  To  their  tribunal  oblivion  must  give 
up  its  dead.  What  place  will  then  be  allotted  to 
Dr.  Priestley,  among  the  benefactors  of  mankind, 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  O 

we  will  not  presume  to  decide ;  sure  we  are  it  will 
be  no  mean  one.  And,  in  the  mean  while,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  the  time  is  approaching  for  a  correct  and 
final  estimate  of  his  merits.  His  contemporaries, 
with  their  indiscriminate  praise  or  censure,  have,  for 
the  most  part,  retired  from  the  scene ;  and  a  new 
generation,  partly  educated  by  his  writings,  and  able 
to  bear  testimony  to  their  influence,  has  stepped 
into  their  place.  The  physical  science  to  which,  for 
many  years,  he  brought  his  annual  tribute  of  dis- 
covery, has  advanced  another  stage ;  and,  apart  from 
all  rivalry  and  controversy,  can  afford  to  be  just  to 
his  memory,  and  to  devote  a  chapter  of  true  history 
to  its  own  historian.  The  philosophy  of  mind  no 
longer  pays  exclusive  honor  to  the  favorites  whose 
contempt  was  too  strong  for  his  living  fame,  and 
ranks  among  its  greatest  masters  men  who  expound 
principles  akin  to  his.  In  some  measure  his  politi- 
cal sympathies  seem  to  have  been  bequeathed  to 
this  generation,  and  the  chains  have  been  broken, 
for  numbering  whose  links  he  became  an  outcast 
and  an  exile.  And  in  theology  he  has  had  succes- 
sors, who  have,  in  some  measure,  diverted  from  him 
the  odium  which  he  was  wont  to  bear  exclusively : 
theology,  however,  is  singularly  tardy  in  its  justice, 
and  a  fame  locked  up  in  theology  is  scarcely  more 
hopeful  than  an  estate  locked  up  in  chancery.  For 
a  fair  estimate  of  this  extraordinary  man,  the  advan- 
tages afforded  by  the  complexion  of  the  times  are 
enhanced  by  the  new  biographical  materials  which 
have  been  laid  before  us  by  Mr.  Rutt.  These  ma- 
terials consist  of  Dr.  Priestley's  letters  to  his  most 


4  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

intimate  friends,  extending  in  an  almost  unbroken 
series  through  the  greater  part  of  his  life,  and  ap- 
pended to  the  several  sections  of  his  autobiography. 
We  were  disposed  at  first  to  wish  that  more  selec- 
tion had  been  used,  and  that  many  letters,  which 
convey  no  new  impression  of  the  writer's  character, 
no  indication  of  the  spirit  of  his  times,  had  been 
omitted ;  and  that,  notwithstanding  the  amount  of 
interesting  small  talk  which  is  crowded  into  the 
notes,  they  had  been  occasionally  in  a  less  excursive 
style  of  illustration.  But  in  both  these  particulars 
it  is  possible  that  the  editor  may  have  consulted  the 
public  taste  as  well  as  his  own  vast  stock  of  dissent- 
ing lore.  His  errors  (if  errors  they  be)  are  those  of 
an  affectionate  and  faithful  memory  ;  and  the  inter- 
est which,  in  the  earlier  portion  of  the  biography,  is 
weighed  down  by  the  indiscriminate  mass  of  corre- 
spondence, is  powerfully  revived  towards  the  close  of 
the  volume  by  the  letters  from  America.  It  would 
be  difficult  to  find,  throughout  the  whole  range  of 
epistolary  literature,  any  thing  more  touching  than 
these  letters,  more  pictorial  than  the  impression  they 
convey  of  the  aged  philosopher  in  his  banishment, 
inspired  by  his  faith  to  struggle  with  the  shocks  of 
circumstance,  sustaining  cheerfulness  and  devising 
good  in  the  midst  of  his  solitary  sorrows,  and  feed- 
ing still  an  interior  energy  amid  the  waste  of  years. 
His  seclusion  there  seems  like  an  appointed  interval 
between  two  worlds,  —  a  central  point  of  observation 
between  time  and  eternity.  There  is  a  quietude  in 
his  letters,  which  gives  them  the  aspect  of  letters 
from  the  dead ;  all  the  activity  of  life  appears  in 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  O 

them  as  viewed  in  retrospect,  and  yet  the  peace  of 
Heaven  is  still  but  in  prospect ;  and  they  send  forth 
tones  of  indescribable  melancholy,  which,  travelling 
over  one  of  the  world's  broadest  oceans,  seem  like 
communings  from  an  unearthly  state.  Yet  it  is  not 
that  the  Christian  sufferer  himself  desponds;  the 
melancholy  is  not  in  him,  but  in  the  reader ;  and  it 
is  simply  our  wonder  that  he  could  uphold  his  spirit 
so  nobly,  which  deepens  the  pathos  of  his  history. 
It  is  obvious,  throughout,  that  his  self-possessed 
serenity  comes  from  the  past  and  the  future,  and  not 
from  the  present ;  and  there  is  a  simplicity,  a  reality, 
in  his  repeated  allusions  to  his  approaching  immor- 
tality, which  makes  us  feel  perpetually  that,  step  by 
step,  we  are  passing  with  the  venerable  man  to  his 
grave,  to  meet  him  on  the  morrow  in  a  home  whence 
there  is  no  exile. 

But  we  are  anticipating.  Not  that  we  shall  at- 
tempt any  chronological  narrative  of  Dr.  Priestley's 
life ;  our  readers  will,  we  trust,  seek  that  from  the 
volume  whose  title  stands  at  the  head  of  this  arti- 
cle;—  a  volume  which,  by  recording  not  so  much 
the  events  as  the  labors,  the  feelings,  the  habits,  the 
discipline,  the  opinions,  of  a  life ;  by  exhibiting  the 
successive  phases  of  a  mind  passing  from  darkness 
towards  full-orbed  truth,  —  fulfils  the  expectations 
with  which  the  student  of  human  nature  has  a  right 
to  turn  to  biography.  This  volume  brings  to  a  close 
Mr.  Rutt's  protracted  and,  we  fear,  ill-requited 
labors,  as  editor  of  Dr.  Priestley's  Theological  and 
Miscellaneous  Works ;  and  we  would  avail  ourselves 
of  the  opportunity  to  present  our  readers  with  an 
1* 


6  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

analysis  of  Dr.  Priestley's  character  as  a  theologian, 
a  physicien,  a  metaphysician,  a  moralist,  and  a  Chris- 
tian. 

Few  problems  are  more  difficult  than  to  determine 
the  proportion  between  the  internal  and  the  external 
causes  which  create  great  minds.  When  genius,  op- 
pressed with  difficulties,  toils  its  way  upwards  to  the 
light,  it  is  not  the  difficulty  that  creates  the  genius, 
or  every  man  who  wrote  in  a  garret  might  be  a 
Johnson  or  a  Sheridan.  Still  less,  when  it  flutters  in 
the  atmosphere  of  courts,  is  it  the  warmth  of  throned 
patronage  which  tempts  its  powers  into  life,  or  every 
minion  of  royalty  might  be  a  Horace  or -a  Moliere. 
No  mind  can  possess  real  power  which  does  not  im- 
press you  with  the  conviction  that,  wherever  planted, 
it  would  have  found  for  itself  a  greatness ;  and  the 
office  of  circumstances  is  but  to  trace  the  track  of 
its  energies.  When  the  stream  born  among  the 
hills  tumbles  its  waters  into  the  valley,  it  has  its 
first  channel  determined  by  the  mountain  surface, 
turned  aside  by  pinnacles  of  rock,  and  invited  by 
the  yielding  alluvial  soil ;  but  its  ceaseless  chafing 
loosens  and  rolls  away  the  rugged  masses  that  break 
its  current,  and  makes  for  it  a  new  and  a  freer  way. 
And  minds  which  are  to  fertilize  the  world  may 
have  the  windings  of  their  genius  traced  by  influ- 
ences from  without ;  but  the  same  mighty  will  by 
which  they  first  burst  forth  to  precipitate  themselves 
on  the  world  below,  will  undermine  the  most  frown- 
ing barriers  of  circumstances,  and  carve  out  fresh 
courses  for  their  power.  Though  Dr.  Priestley 
would  not  have  been  unknown  to  the  world  had  he, 


DR.     PRIESTLEY.  7 

in  conformity  with  an  intention  once  entertained, 
been  doomed  to  a  counting-house  in  Lisbon,  it  is 
not  difficult  to  discern  several  groups  of  events  which 
exercised  a  deep  and  lasting  influence  upon  his  char- 
acter, and  determined  the  relation  in  which  he 
should  stand  to  society.  The  first  of  these  is  to  be 
found  in  his  early  religious  education,  which  was 
conducted  on  the  old  puritanical  model  of  constraint 
and  rigor.  There  is  little  doubt  that  he  is  right  in 
ascribing  to  this  cause  the  deep  sense  of  religion 
which  he  maintained  through  life.  His  was  not 
one  of  those  minds  which  are  necessarily  devotional, 
—  which,  under  all  conceivable  adjustments  of  cir- 
cumstances, betray  their  affinity  with  Heaven,  — 
whose  religious  sympathies,  instead  of  being  sup- 
pressed by  neglect,  or  overborne  by  the  tide  of  ad- 
verse influence,  would,  like  air  entangled  in  the 
ocean-depths,  rise  the  more  buoyantly  to  their  native 
element.  Such  a  mind  was  Heber's,  of  which  you 
can  no  more  think  as  without  piety,  than  you  can 
of  color  without  extension.  Deprive  it  of  this  cen- 
tral attribute,  and  there  remains  an  impossible  com- 
bination of  qualities ;  but  Dr.  Priestley's  other  qual- 
ities might  have  existed  independently  of  his  devo- 
tion, without  any  violation  of  the  order  of  nature. 
In  the  language  of  logicians,  it  was  his  property, 
not  his  essential  difference.  And,  accordingly,  we 
believe  that,  for  its  full  and  permanent  development, 
a  systematic  and  stimulant  discipline  was  needed ; 
and  this  was  abundantly  administered  in  the  coarse 
excitement  and  Sabbatarian  severity  of  a  Calvin- 
istic  education.  His  acknowledgment  of  the  mis- 


8  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

cries  accompanying  its  benefits  is  remarkable  among 
the  confessions  of  orthodoxy :  — 

"  The  weakness  of  my  constitution,  which  often  led  me 
to  think  that  I  should  not  be  long-lived,  contributed  to  give 
my  mind  a  still  more  serious  turn  ;  and  having  read  many 
books  of  experiences,  and,  in  consequence,  believing  that  a 
new  birth,  produced  by  the  immediate  agency  of  the  Spirit 
of  God,  was  necessary  to  salvation,  and  not  being  able  to 
satisfy  myself  that  I  had  experienced  any  thing  of  the  kind, 
I  felt  occasionally  such  distress  of  mind  as  it  is  not  in  my 
power  to  describe,  and  which  I  still  look  back  upon  with 
horror.  Notwithstanding  I  had  nothing  very  material  to 
reproach  myself  with,  I  often  concluded  that  God  had  for- 
saken me,  and  that  mine  was  like  the  case  of  Francis  Spira, 
to  whom,  as  he  imagined,  repentance  and  salvation  were 
denied.  In  that  state  of  mind  I  remember  reading  the  ac- 
count of  '  the  man  in  the  iron  cage,'  in  the  '  Pilgrim's  Prog- 
ress,' with  the  greatest  perturbation. 

"  I  imagine  that  even  these  conflicts  of  mind  were  not 
without  their  use,  as  they  led  me  to  think  habitually  of 
God  and  a  future  state.  And  though  my  feelings  were 
then,  no  doubt,  too  full  of  terror,  what  remained  of  them 
was  a  deep  reverence  for  divine  things,  and  in  time  a  pleas- 
ing satisfaction  which  can  never  be  effaced,  and,  I  hope, 
was  strengthened  as  I  have  advanced  in  life,  and  acquired 
more  rational  notions  of  religion.  The  remembrance,  how- 
ever, of  what  I  sometimes  felt  in  that  state  of  ignorance 
and  darkness,  gives  me  a  peculiar  sense  of  the  value  of 
rational  principles  of  religion,  and  of  which  I  can  give  but 
an  imperfect  description  to  others. 

"  As  truth,  we  cannot  doubt,  must  have  an  advantage 
over  error,  we  may  conclude  that  the  want  of  these  pecu- 
liar feelings  is  compensated  by  something  of  greater  value, 


DR.     PRIESTLEY.  9 

which  arises  to  others  from  always  having  seen  things  in  a 
just  and  pleasing  light ;  from  having  always  considered  the 
Supreme  Being  as  the  kind  parent  of  all  his  offspring. 
This,  however,  not  having  been  my  case,  I  cannot  be  so 
good  a  judge  of  the  effects  of  it.  At  all  events,  we  ought 
always  to  inculcate  just  views  of  things,  assuring  ourselves 
that  proper  feelings  and  right  conduct  will  be  the  conse- 
quence of  them."  — pp.  12,  13. 

"  Though,  after  I  saw  reason  to  change  my  opinions,  1 
found  myself  incommoded  by  the  rigor  of  the  congrega- 
tion with  which  I  was  connected,  I  shall  always  acknowl- 
edge, with  great  gratitude,  that  I  owe  much  to  it.  The 
business  of  religion  was  effectually  attended  to  in  it.  We 
were  all  catechized  in  public  till  we  were  grown  up,  servants 
as  well  as  others  :  the  minister  always  expounded  the  Scrip- 
tures with  as  much  regularity  as  he  preached  ;  and  there 
was  hardly  a  day  in  the  week  in  which  there  was  not  some 
meeting  of  one  or  other  part  of  the  congregation.  On  one 
evening  there  was  a  meeting  of  the  young  men  for  conver- 
sation and  prayer.  This  I  constantly  attended,  praying  ex- 
tempore with  others,  when  called  upon. 

"  At  my  aunt's  there  was  a  monthly  meeting  of  women, 
who  acquitted  themselves  in  prayer  as  well  as  any  of  the 
men  belonging  to  the  congregation.  Being  at  first  a  child 
in  the  family,  I  was  permitted  to  attend  their  meetings,  and 
growing  up  insensibly,  heard  them,  after  I  was  capable  of 
judging.  My  aunt,  after  the  death  of  her  husband,  prayed 
every  morning  and  evening  in  her  family,  until  I  was  about 
seventeen,  when  that  duty  devolved  upon  me. 

"  The  Lord's  day  was  kept  with  peculiar  strictness.  No 
victuals  were  dressed  on  that  day  in  any  family.  No  mem- 
ber of  it  was  permitted  to  walk  out  for  recreation,  but  the 
whole  of  the  day  was  spent  at  the  public  meeting,  or  at 
home  in  reading,  meditation,  and  prayer,  in  the  family  or 
the  closet."  —  pp.  15-17. 

* 


10  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

A  question  of  great  moment  is  here  suggested. 
Unitarianism  has  been  tried  upon  two  generations : 
has  the  experiment  justified  Dr.  Priestley's  faith  in 
the  devotional  influences  of  truth  ?  Or,  for  illustra- 
tions of  the  spirituality  which  may  be  conjoined 
with  heterodoxy,  must  we  still  point  to  minds  which, 
like  his,  have  emerged  from  Calvinism,  and  may  be 
supposed  to  have  brought  their  piety  thence  ?  With 
the  most  fervent  confidence  in  the  moral  power  of 
truth,  it  may  yet  be  doubted  whether  the  largest 
portion  of  Unitarian  piety  has  not  been  imported 
from  orthodoxy ;  and  hence  many  have  been  led  to 
conclusions  favorable  to  the  rigid  system  of  religious 
education.  The  fact  may  be  admitted,  and  the  in- 
ference denied.  It  is  in  no  case  the  rigor,  the  cere- 
monialism, that  makes  the  saint ;  regarded  by  itself, 
its  whole  tendency  is  to  produce  mental  imbecility 
and  disgust  and  unbelief;  and  wherever  it  has  ex- 
isted as  a  system,  —  whenever  it  has  been  made  the 
instructor's  main  reliance,  —  these  effects,  and  no 
others,  have  followed ;  not  a  gleam  of  emotion,  not 
an  impulse  of  holy  desire,  has  ever  come  from  it. 
But,  long  as  it  has  been  the  receptacle  of  all  the 
soul  of  orthodoxy,  it  would  be  strange  if  its  ma- 
chinery had  not  often  been  plied  by  those  who 
have  made  it  the  vehicle  of  their  own  piety,  and 
have  sent  through  its  dead  materials  that  living 
earnestness  of  mind,  in  love  of  which  the  young 
will  often  undergo  much  that  would  else  be  tedious 
and  revolting.  Wherever  Sabbatarianism  has  fallen 
into  such  hands,  a  devotional  feeling  has  resulted,  — 
not,  indeed,  from  the  system,  but  from  its  presiding 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  11 

spirit.  To  revive  the  stiff  regimen  of  our  forefathers, 
because  it  sent  forth  a  Priestley  and  a  Lindsey, 
would  be  like  reenacting  the  Mosaic  law,  in  expec- 
tation of  another  "  sweet  singer  of  Israel."  A  ritual 
system  can  no  more  create  a  soul,  than  the  study  of 
Greek  metres  can  make  a  poet.  It  does  not,  how- 
ever, follow,  because  sabbatical  constraint  fails  to 
awaken  piety,  that  laxity  must  certainly  succeed  ; 
and  we  rejoice  to  believe  that  Unitarians  are  begin- 
ning to  perceive  the  error  of  this  retaliative  logic ;  — 
that,  while  they  discard  the  enthralling  formalities 
which  rendered  their  fathers  more  superstitious  than 
devout,  they  feel,  in  some  degree,  the  solemn  respon- 
sibilities of  a  spiritual  faith  ;  —  that,  while  they  rely 
as  little  as  ever  on  mere  externals  of  devotion,  they 
think  more  of  its  interior  spirit,  and  study  more 
earnestly  the  means  for  its  nurture. 

Whilst  we  admit  that  the  conflicts  of  mind  which 
Dr.  Priestley  describes  may  have  occasioned  a  per- 
manent susceptibility  to  religious  emotion,  we  main- 
tain that  it  was  his  subsequent  conversion  which 
gave  that  susceptibility  its  only  value.  His  mental 
sufferings  were  accurate  corollaries  from  his  faith  ; 
and  his  mind  was  too  clear-sighted,  too  sincere,  too 
literal,  too  little  imaginative,  speedily  to  have  effect- 
ed an  escape  from  them  which  nothing  but  self- 
deception  and  enthusiasm  could  have  accomplished. 
And  where,  we  would  ask,  is  the  efficacy  of  religious 
emotion  so  miserably  perverted  ?  Neither  inspiring 
holiness,  nor  infusing  peace,  its  influence  on  the 
active  powers  is  purely  paralytic,  and  on  the  passive, 
torture.  There  is  no  charm  in  devotional  anguish, 

v 


12  MARTINEAU'S  MISCELLANIES. 

more  than  in  any  other,  which  should  make  it  a 
thing  to  be  desired ;  and  self-persecution  without 
reformation,  —  tears  wrung,  not  from  the  conscience, 
but  from  the  creed,  —  are  only  new  items  in  the  ac- 
count of  human  misery.  It  was  not,  then,  till  the 
reverential  feelings  towards  the  object  of  faith  which 
those  struggles  implied  were  transplanted  into  a 
brighter  system,  —  not  till  they  took  their  place  in  a 
religion  of  duty  instead  of  dogma,  —  not  till  they 
changed  their  character  from  tormentors  to  motives, 
from  abjectness  to  love,  —  that  they  brought  with 
them  any  blessing  to  the  mind.  Calvinism,  like  the 
magicians  of  Egypt,  could  poison  and  taint  the 
salubrious  stream ;  true  religion,  like  the  prophet's 
rod,  could  alone  convert  the  current  of  blood  into 
the  waters  of  fertility. 

The  next  important  circumstance  of  his  life  was 
his  conversion;  an  event  which,  from  its  permanent 
influence  on  his  external  relations  and  his  internal 
habits,  forms  the  most  momentous  change  in  his 
personal  history ;  and,  from  its  vast  and  still  increas- 
ing effect  on  the  state  of  opinion  in  this  country, 
marks  an  era  in  the  annals  of  our  national  Chris- 
tianity. It  was  brought  about  by  the  same  qualities 
of  mind  which  had  sunk  him  in  the  agonizing  hu- 
miliation of  orthodoxy,  —  we  mean  his  plain-dealing 
with  himself.  It  is  not  to  the  presumptuous,  but  to 
the  humble,  not  to  the  self-ignorant,  but  to  the  clear- 
minded,  student  of  their  own  nature,  that  the  shade 
of  Calvinism,  like  that  of  the  fabled  Upas-tree, 
proves  itself,  instead  of  a  sheltering  influence,  a 
sickening  and  a  deadly  blight.  Had  Dr.  Priestley 


DR.     PRIESTLEY.  13 

exercised  more  self-adulation  and  less  perspicacity 
in  his  dealings  with  his  own  mind,  he  might  have 
emerged  from  his  gloomy  terrors,  into  the  comfort- 
able persuasion  of  his  own  saintship ;  but  the  same 
sincerity  which  prevented  his  confounding  the  op- 
erations of  his  own  thoughts  with  the  agency  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  prevented  him  also  from  mistaking 
the  prepossessions  of  education  for  the  fulness  of 
evidence.  There  never  was  a  movement  of  opinion 
more  purely  characteristic  than  that  of  Dr.  Priestley. 
It  was  performed  exclusively  by  the  natural  gravita- 
tion .  of  his  own  faculties,  with  the  least  possible 
share  of  impulse  from  external  causes.  It  was  his 
"  call " ;  and  we  wish  that  every  call  which  ortho- 
doxy records  were  as  simply  a  transaction  between 
God  and  the  believer's  own  mind ;  it  was  his  "  new 
creation,"  the  brooding  of  God's  spirit,  i.  e.  his  own 
thought  and  conscience,  over  the  chaos  of  a  rude 
creed,  and  bidding  light  to  struggle  through  the 
mass,  and  the  elements  to  fall  into  a  fairer  order. 
That  the  change  was  progressive,  extending  over 
sixteen  years,  not  only  assimilates  it  to  all  that  is 
good  in  God's  providence,  but  indicates  its  inde- 
pendent character.  The  opinions  which  he  ulti- 
mately embraced  were  nowhere  embodied  as  a 
whole  at  the  commencement  of  his  inquiries ;  some 
of  them  were  not  in  existence,  and  the  rest  were 
barely  accessible,  scattered  through  many  dissimilar 
writers,  —  rather  hinted  than  stated;  and,  if  deemed 
worthy  of  mention  for  their  curiosity,  requiring 
apology  for  their  profaneness. 

The  collective  adoption  of  the  peculiarities  con- 
2 


14  MARTINEAU'S  MISCELLANIES. 

stituting  modern  English  Unitarianism  would  then 
have  been  unnatural,  and  their  adoption  from  the 
dictation  of  others'  minds  impossible.  Throughout 
the  whole  process  of  theological  change  which  Dr. 
Priestley's  opinions  underwent,  his  transition  from 
low  Arianism  to  Humanitarianism,  which  was  the 
last  important  step,  is  the  only  one  in  which  the 
reasonings  of  a  predecessor  exerted  a  perceptible  in- 
fluence ;  and  this  was  occasioned  by  the  writings  of 
Dr.  Lardner,  to  be  persuaded  by  whom  must  be  a 
pure  concession  to  evidence.  Throughout  every 
other  stage  of  his  conversion,  Dr.  Priestley  was  his 
own  commentator;  his  inquiries  followed  the  order 
of  his  own  doubts ;  his  evidence  was  collected  and 
arranged  by  his  own  assiduity ;  and  his  conclusions 
drawn  by  the  absolutely  solitary  exercise  of  his  own 
intellect. 

He  has  been  accused,  and  by  an  authority  which 
gives  weight  to  the  accusation,  of  having  imbibed 
from  his  age  a  spirit  of  innovation.  We  apprehend 
that  the  charge  involves  a  material  error  with  regard 
both  to  his  character  and  his  times.  _  A  more  station- 
ary condition  of  the  social  mind  than  that  in  which 
his  opinions  commenced,  matured,  and  almost  com- 
pleted their  progress,  could  not  perhaps  be  selected 
from  the  last  two  centuries  of  English  history.  The 
underworkings  of  the  earthquake  had  doubtless 
commenced  in  France;  the  interior  power  which 
was  to  burst  through  the  crust  of  institutions,  and 
rock  the  nations  in  alarm,  was  "  getting  up  its 
steam  "  :  but  of  this  not  the  most  penetrating  had  a 
glimpse ;  all  was  quiet  on  the  surface,  not  a  growl 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  15 

was  heard,  not  a  vibration  felt.  Had  it  even  been 
otherwise,  Dr.  Priestley  could  have  been  little  affect- 
ed, in  the  early  part  of  his  life,  by  the  political  oc- 
currences of  the  Continent,  for  he  was  not  then  in  a 
position  either  to  receive  or  to  impart  the  influence 
supposed ;  he  was  not  then  the  admired  philosopher, 
the  conspicuous  sectary,  the  obnoxious  subject, — 
but  the  poor,  secluded,  unpopular  preacher  of  a 
small  market-town.  The  relative  chronology  of  his 
opinions  is  curious.  Not  only  were  his  changes  of 
mind  in  complete  anticipation  of  the  stimulating 
period  which  closed  the  last  century,  but  some  of  his 
most  startling  sentiments  were  the  earliest  em- 
braced ;  he  had  maintained  the  inconclusiveness  of 
St.  Paul's  reasoning,  gone  all  lengths  with  the  doc- 
trine of  necessity,  and  rejected  his  belief  in  divine 
influence,  before  he  had  been  in  the  ministry  three 
years.  And  on  the  other  hand,  when  the  time  of 
restless  theory  came,  and  all  old  opinions  were  loos- 
ened, and  the  whole  creed  of  society,  political,  social, 
and  religious,  was  broken  up  for  reconstruction,  his 
convictions  had  been  made  up ;  he  had  not  to  take 
up  his  opinions  amid  the  maddening  excitement 
which,  in  the  eagerness  to  enthrone  reason,  thrust 
her  from  her  seat ;  calmer  moments  had  been  devoted 
to  the  task,  and  in  the  retrospect  of  his  own  mind  he 
saw  an  epitome  of  the  mental  revolution  whose  rapid 
transitions  were  hurrying  by.  Hence  the  steady 
posture  which  he  assumed  amid  all  the  revelry  of 
speculation  which  he  witnessed ;  hence,  with  all  his 
exultation  in  the  new  prospect  which  seemed  to 
open  upon  society,  he  appeared  as  a  conservator,  no 


16  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

less  frequently  than  as  an  assailant,  of  existing  opin- 
ions. It  would  indeed  be  difficult  to  select  from  the 
benefactors  of  mankind  one  who  was  less  acted 
upon  by  his  age,  whose  convictions  were  more  en- 
tirely independent  of  sympathy ;  in  the  whole  circle 
of  whose  opinions  you  can  set  down  so  little  to  the 
prejudgments  of  education,  to  the  attractions  of 
friendship,  to  the  perverse  love  of  opposition,  to  the 
contagion  of  prevailing  taste,  or  to  any  of  the  irreg- 
ular moral  causes  which,  independently  of  evidence, 
determine  the  course  of  human  belief.  We  do  not 
assert  that  he  was  not  precipitate;  we  do  not  say 
that  he  cast  away  no  gems  of  truth  in  clearing  from 
the  sanctuary  the  dust  of  ages;  we  do  not  deny 
that,  in  his  passion  for  simplification,  he  did  some- 
times run  too  rapidly  through  a  mystery,  and  pro- 
pound inconsiderate  explanations  of  things  deeper 
than  his  philosophy.  But  we  maintain  that  his 
sources  of  fallacy,  whatever  they  were,  were  from 
within,  and  not  from  without;  that  he  was  no  man 
for  the  second-hand  errors  of  indolent  or  imitative 
intellects ;  that  his  faults  were  all  those  of  a  search- 
ing, copious,  and  original  mind. 

We  have  said  that  Dr.  Priestley's  theological  in- 
quiries followed  the  order  of  his  doubts  :  his  conver- 
sion followed  the  order  of  his  inquiries,  his  publica- 
tions the  order  of  his  conversion,  and  his  influence 
the  order  of  his  publications.  Hence  in  part  has 
arisen  among  Unitarians  a  conventional  arrangement 
of  their  theological  peculiarities,  always  beginning 
with  the  question  respecting  the  person  of  Christ, 
and  ending  with  Universal  Restoration.  Every  com- 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  17 

pletc  published  defence  of  their  tenets,  and  almost 
every  systematic  course  of  public  lectures  in  their 
chapels,  exhibits  this  particular  sequence  of  faith.  It 
was  not  unnatural  that  the  order  of  investigation 
should  become,  in  Dr.  Priestley's  mind,  the  order  of 
importance :  in  each  succeeding  inquiry  he  would 
use,  in  addition  to  its  independent  evidence,  the  con- 
clusion established  in  the  preceding;  and,  at  the  end 
of  the  process,  the  first  step  would  seem  to  be  more 
purely  and  directly  drawn  from  Scripture,  and  the 
next  to  be  of  a  more  inferential  character.  The  or- 
der of  discovery,  however,  is  seldom  the  best  order 
of  proof;  nor  is  either  the  best  order  for  popular  ex- 
position; and  we  think  it,  on  some  accounts,  unfor- 
tunate that  Unitarianism  has  disposed  itself  so  inflex- 
ibly along  the  graduated  scale  marked  out  by  the 
steps  of  its  modern  explorers.  Whether  we  regard 
it  as  the  negation  of  orthodoxy,  or  contemplate  it  as 
a  set  of  positive  and  harmonious  truths,  this  restric- 
tion is  unnecessary.  The  ingenious  construction  of 
the  popular  system,  which  indissolubly  cements  to- 
gether its  several  dogmas,  has  its  perils  as  well  as 
its  advantages.  If  any  one  of  its  tenets,  on  finding 
entrance  into  the  mind,  introduces  its  companions 
in  its  train,  any  one  of  them,  on  its  departure,  opens 
an  exit  for  all  the  rest.  It  matters  little,  then,  where 
you  begin  the  assault ;  the  battery  of  your  logic  is 
circular,  and,  commence  the  fire  where  you  may, 
will  sweep  the  field.  Or  take  the  more  interesting 
view  of  Unitarian  Christianity,  as  a  cluster  of  pos- 
itive doctrines,  and  the  same  remark  holds  good. 
With  far  less  of  the  artificial  ingenuity  of  system 
2* 


18  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

than  the  prevalent  theology,  it  has  still  the,  natural 
harmony  of  truth  ;  and  the  affinities  which  blend  to- 
gether its  parts  are  so  close,  as  to  spread  a  chain 
of  delicate  yet  unbroken  influence  through  the  whole; 
and  communicate  the  first  spark  of  thought  where 
you  will,  it  will  shoot  from  link  to  link  to  the  farthest 
extremity.  Unitarianism,  we  think,  must  discover 
more  variety  in  its  resources,  must  avail  itself  of 
more  flexibility  of  appeal,  must  wield  in  turn  its  crit- 
ical, its  philosophical,  its  social,  its  poetical,  its  devo- 
tional powers,  before  it  gain  its  destined  ascendency 
over  the  mind  of  Christendom.  With  great  respect 
for  the  able  contributions  which  Christian  truth  has 
received  from  its  departed  champions,  we  still  must 
regard  them  as  only  contributions ;  and  think  that 
the  controversy  must  be  again  and  again  rewritten, 
and  its  whole  form  recast,  before  it  may  begin  to 
number  its  triumphs. 

Though  no  external  influences  could  produce  that 
extraordinary  versatility  which  characterized  Dr. 
Priestley,  the  circumstances  in  his  history  which 
tended  to  encourage  it  are  not  unworthy  of  a  pass- 
ing notice.  During  the  lapse  of  seven  years  from 
the  termination  of  his  college  life,  he  found  himself 
in  three  different  situations,  each  presenting  strong, 
and  almost  exclusive,  motives  to  a  separate  class  of 
pursuits.  First  came  a  ministry  of  three  years  in  a 
small  country  town,  affording  no  occasions  of  active 
duty,  and  no  distractions  of  society.  Compelled  to 
live  on  thirty  pounds  a  year,  watched,  suspected, 
and  partially  deserted,  by  a  congregation  whose  pie- 
ty vented  itself  in  dread  of  heterodoxy,  and  finding 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  19 

little  congenial  sentiment  among  his  neighboring 
brethren,  he  devoted  himself  entirely  to  theological 
study,  for  which  alone  his  library  afforded  him  scope. 
Next  he  was  a  schoolmaster  at  Nantwich,  under  the 
same  inability  which  every  conscientious  schoolmas- 
ter feels,  to  attend  to  any  thing  beyond  the  duties  of 
his  office ;  and  accordingly  we  here  find  him  study- 
ing grammar  and  language.  Thence  he  removed  to 
Warrington,  and  there  gave  himself  up  with  aston- 
ishing energy  to  the  preparation  of  lectures  on  the 
theory  of  language,  on  oratory  and  the  belles  lettres, 
on  history  and  general  policy  ;  —  a  class  of  topics 
almost  entirely  new  to  him,  and  for  excellence  in 
which  there  was  little  provision  in  the  predominant 
qualities  of  his  mind.  Yet  what  he  wanted  of  the 
critic's  delicate  perception  he  compensated  by  the 
philosopher's  comprehensive  views ;  and  though  his 
labors  in  these  departments  may  not  be  destined  to 
live,  there  is  in  his  treatment  of  his  subjects  a  breadth 
and  magnitude  and  metaphysical  spirit,  which  con- 
trasts favorably  with  the  small  and  superficial  criti- 
cism of  his  predecessors  in  the  same  field.  In  his 
conception  of  his  object  he  is  as  much  their  superior, 
as  he  is  inferior  to  the  noble  school  of  German  crit- 
ics, whose  genius  has,  in  our  own  day,  penetrated 
the  mysteries,  and  analyzed  the  spirit,  of  poetry  and 
the  arts. 

Before  he  quitted  his  office  of  tutor,  and  after  he 
had  completed  the  composition  of  his  lectures,  an  in- 
troduction to  Dr.  Price  and  Dr.  Franklin  gave  the 
first  impulse  to  his  philosophical  pursuits.  Whether 
this  event  be  estimated  by  its  effect  on  his  fame  or 


20  MARTINEAU's     MISCELLANIES. 

that  upon  his  character,  it  must  be  regarded  as 
among  the  most  important  in  his  life.  The  unpar- 
alleled ardor  with  which  he  prosecuted  his  newly  ac- 
quired objects,  and  the  signal  success  by  which  it 
was  at  once  recompensed  and  stimulated,  soon  ren- 
dered it  manifest  that  his  intellect  had  found  its 
appropriate  direction ;  and  from  this  time,  until  his 
career  was  checked  by  persecution,  he  continued  to 
give  to  the  world  a  series  of  discoveries,  capable  of 
comparison,  in  their  variety  and  productiveness,  with 
the  achievements  of  the  most  honored  names  in  the 
records  of  physical  science.  Of  the  qualities  of  mind 
which  he  brought  to  the  study  of  Nature  and  her 
laws,  it  will  be  our  business  to  speak  hereafter  :  we 
notice  his  philosophical  pursuits  here,  merely  as  they 
relate  to  the  history  of  his  character.  Great  as  their 
influence  upon  him  was,  they  wrought  no  revolution, 
no  change,  in  his  habits  and  feelings.  All  that  he 
had  been  he  continued  to  be ;  all  that  he  had  done 
he  continued  to  do.  Their  operation  was  one  of 
pure  addition.  They  extended  his  reverential  gaze 
on  creation  over  a  wider  field ;  they  quickened  his 
marvellous  activity ;  they  expanded  his  benevolence ; 
they  deepened  his  piety ;  they  illustrated  his  own 
principle,  that  every  intellectual  and  moral  attain- 
ment sheds  illumination  on  every  other,  and  that 
mental  power  multiplies  itself  indefinitely :  and  they 
completed  that  rare  combination  of  qualities  by 
which,  in  an  age  of  infidelity  and  of  arbitrary  power, 
science,  liberty,  and  religion  all  found  in  him  a  fit- 
ting representative. 

Thus  much  we  have  said  respecting  the  circum- 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  21 

stances  which  were  most  deeply  concerned  in  deter- 
mining the  career  of  this  eminent  philosopher  and  di- 
vine. Our  readers  may  wonder  that  we  have  omit- 
ted to  notice  the  two  most  remarkable  events  of  his 
history, —  his  persecution  at  Birmingham  and  his 
retreat  to  America.  The  truth  is,  that  the  most 
romantic  passages  of  human  life  are  not  always  the 
most  influential :  our  object  has  been,  not  to  furnish 
an  interesting  narrative,  but  to  sketch  the  records  of 
a  rnind ;  and  we  think  that  the  occurrences  just  men- 
tioned, taking  place  as  they  did,  in  the  maturity  of 
Dr.  Priestley's  mind,  were  means  rather  of  indicating 
and  developing  than  of  forming  his  character.  They 
will  find,  therefore,  a  more  appropriate  place  in  the 
analysis  which  we  propose  to  attempt  of  that  char- 
acter in  its  intellectual,  moral,  and  religious  rela- 
tions. 

If  any  one  were  to  put  forth  the  prospectus  of  a 
Cyclopaedia,  proposing  to  write  all  the  articles  him- 
self, he  would  be  set  down  for  a  genius  or  a  mad- 
man. His  admirers  would  think  him  the  wonder  of 
the  world  ;  his  opponents  would  cry  out  upon  him  as 
a  shallow  pretender.  To  the  discerning,  the  concep- 
tion of  such  a  design  would  disclose  the  true  char- 
acter of  his  mind.  To  imagine  the  outline,  and 
glance  even  rapidly  from  the  Alpha  to  the  Omega  of 
human  attainments,  implies  no  ordinary  power;  to 
look  over  the  wide  continent  of  knowledge,  and  see 
it  mapped  out  in  all  its  bearings,  and  trace  the  great 
skeleton  truths  which  form  its  mountain  barriers, 
and  follow  the  streams  of  beauty  that  wind  below 
their  base,  is  the  prerogative  of  none  but  the  com- 


22  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

prehensive  and  far-sighted  mind.  But  to  suppose 
that  the  same  intellect  which  sketches  the  outline 
can  fill  up  the  details,  that  he  who  understands  the 
mutual  relations  of  the  different  departments  of  sci- 
ence and  art  can  unfold  all  their  mysteries,  betrays  a 
miscalculation  of  the  voluminous  contents  of  human 
knowledge,  and  an  ignorance  of  the  varieties  of  in- 
tellectual power  requisite  to  embrace  them  all.  To 
refer  to  a  catalogue  of  Dr.  Priestley's  works  is  like 
consulting  a  prospectus  of  a  Cyclopaedia ;  and  it  is 
impossible  to  remember  that  they  are  all  the  produc- 
tions of  one  individual,  without  the  impression  that 
his  mind  was  more  adventurous  than  profound,  and 
its  vision  more  telescopic  than  microscopic.  How 
far  this  impression  is  just  we  may  attempt  to  ascer- 
tain. We  believe  it  to  be  the  truth,  but  not  the 
whole  truth. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  versatility  was  the 
great  characteristic  of  Dr.  Priestley's  genius.  Singu- 
larly quick  of  apprehension,  he  made  all  his  acqui- 
sitions with  facility  and  rapidity ;  and  hence  he  de- 
rived a  confidence  in  the  working-power  of  his  own 
mind,  and  a  general  faith  in  the  sufficiency  of  the 
human  faculties  as  instruments  of  knowledge,  which 
led  him  on  to  achievement  after  achievement  in  the 
true  spirit  of  intellectual  enterprise.  This  excur- 
siveness  of  mind  was  encouraged  by  his  metaphysi- 
cal creed.  It  has  been  the  prevailing  error  of  the 
Hartleian  school,  that  they  have  made  too  light  of 
the  original  differences  of  mental  capability,  con- 
scious, perhaps,  that  their  philosophy  has  hitherto 
failed  to  explain  them  :  and  the  natural  consequence 


DR.     PRIESTLEY.  23 

of  incredulity  respecting  the  existence  of  peculiar 
genius  is  to  give  increased  reliance  on  the  efficacy 
of  self-discipline,  to  lessen  the  motive  to  a  division 
of  intellectual  labor,  and  make  the  mind  a  servant 
of  all  work.  We  are  aware,  however,  that  no  specu- 
lative tenet  is  enough  to  account  for  the  mental  pecu- 
liarities of  the  individual  who  holds  it;  for  the  adop- 
tion of  the  tenet  is  itself  a  mental  phenomenon,  re- 
quiring to  be  explained,  and  frequently  arising  from 
that  very  constitution  of  mind  which  is  supposed  to 
be  its  effect.  That  Dr.  Priestley  thought  little  of  the 
exclusive  fitness  of  peculiar  understandings  for  pecu- 
liar pursuits,  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  absence  of  any 
exclusive  tendency  in  himself;  that  he  was  disposed 
to  try  every  thing,  arose  from  his  having  failed  in 
nothing;  the  consciousness  of  power  must  precede 
the  belief  in  power ;  and  the  philosophy  of  the  senti- 
ment, Possunt,  qui  posse  videntur,  is  incomplete  till 
the  converse  is  added,  Qui  possunt,  posse  videntur. 

Dr.  Priestley's  extraordinary  versatility,  then,  while 
it  was  confirmed  by  his  intellectual  philosophy,  is 
to  be  traced  to  his  possession  of  original  endow- 
ments, bearing  an  equal  relation  to  many  depart- 
ments of  knowledge.  In  theology,  in  mental  and 
moral  science,  and,  above  all,  in  experimental  chem- 
istry, his  rapidity  and  copiousness  of  association,  his 
prompt  perception  of  analogies,  his  faith  in  the 
consistency  of  creation's  laws,  and  his  consequent 
passion  for  simplicity,  were  all  available  as  means 
of  detecting  error,  and  aids  in  the  discovery  of  truth. 
And  the  excellence  which  these  qualities  enabled  him 
to  attain  in  his  several  pursuits  was  of  the  same 


24  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

kind  in  all.  In  none  did  they  confer  on  him  super- 
lative merit ;  in  some,  at  least,  they  led  him  into 
great  faults :  but  in  every  one  they  fitted  him  to  be 
the  able  and  dauntless  explorer,  powerful  to  pene- 
trate the  terra  incognita  of  mystery,  and  quick  to  re- 
turn enriched  with  the  spoils  of  fresh  thought.  Year 
after  year  he  visited  the  temple  of  truth,  and  hung 
upon  its  walls  some  new  exuviae  :  and  who  can 
wonder  that  his  offerings  in  their  abundance  were 
more  miscellaneous  than  rare ;  that  they  consisted 
not  always  of  the  gold  and  the  silver  which  could 
be  for  ever  deposited  in  the  sacred  treasury,  but 
sometimes  of  the  scattered  arms  and  fragments  of 
wreck  which  were  of  little  worth  but  as  trophies  of 
victory  ?  He  was  the  ample  collector  of  materials 
for  discovery,  rather  than  the  final  discoverer  him- 
self; a  sign  of  approaching  order,  rather  than  the  pro- 
ducer of  order  himself.  We  remember  an  amusing 
German  play,  designed  as  a  satire  upon  the  philos- 
ophy of  atheism,  in  which  Adam  walks  across  the 
stage,  going  to  be  created :  and,  though  a  paradox, 
it  may  be  said  that  truth,  as  it  passed  through  Dr. 
Priestley's  mind,  was  going  to  be  created :  the  requi- 
site elements  were  there ;  the  vital  principle  was 
stirring  amid  them,  and  producing  the  incipient 
types  of  structures  that  were  yet  to  be ;  but  there 
was  much  that  was  unfit  to  undergo  organization, 
much  that  could  never  be  transmuted  into  forms  of 
beauty,  or  filled  with  the  inspiration  of  life ;  and 
there  must  be  other  processes,  before  the  mass 
emerges  a  graceful  and  a  breathing  frame. 

The  characteristic  qualities  of  Dr.  Priestley's  un- 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  25 

derstanding  led  him  to  prosecute,  with  the  greatest 
ardor,  those  subjects  of  inquiry  in  which  but  little 
progress  had  been  made.  The  earlier  and  less  exact 
stage  of  a  science,  which  promises  a  great  affluence 
of  new  phenomena,  and  admits  of  only  the  lower 
degree  of  generalization,  and  prepares  the  approach 
to  the  establishment  of  merely  empirical  laws,  was 
that  to  which  his  powers  were  adapted.  At  a  more 
advanced  period  of  its  history,  when  the  field  of 
observation  is  narrowed,  and  the  demand  for  precise 
deduction  increased,  and  where  no  appeal  to  fact 
can  be  of  use,  unless  of  the  most  refined  and  delicate 
kind,  his  faculties  could  have  found  no  appropriate 
employment.  In  the  age  of  Galileo  he  would  prob- 
ably have  gained  a  reputation  for  discoveries  in 
optics  or  astronomy:  in  our  days  he  might  have 
aided  the  progress  of  geology :  but  in  his  own  gen- 
eration the  former  had  passed,  while  the  latter  had 
not  reached  the  point  at  which  alone  he  was  able  to 
apply  an  effective  stimulus.  It  may  be  doubted 
whether,  if  he  were  living  now,  he  would  not  find 
chemistry  in  advance  of  his  peculiar  genius ;  whether 
its  greatest  discovery,  the  law  of  definite  propor- 
tions, which  has  eminently  enhanced  the  dignity,  by 
increasing  the  precision  of  the  science,  would  not 
appear  to  have  spoiled  it  for  his  hand :  and  were  a 
question  to  arise,  what  branch  of  it  would  retain 
the  greatest  attractions  for  a  mind  like  his,  no  one 
could  hesitate  to  answer,  electro-chemistry,  in  which 
there  is  mystery  enough  still  to  stimulate  an  ardor 
like  his,  and  glimpses  enough  of  wonderful  and  ex- 
tensive laws  to  inspire  the  investigator  with  the 
3 


26  MARTINEAll's    MISCELLANIES. 

perpetual  feeling  that  he  is  on  the  eve  of  great  dis- 
coveries. Could  we  have  been  permitted  to  select  a 
period  in  the  history  of  science  with  whose  spirit 
his  mind  was  most  congenial,  we  should  have  set 
him  down  among  the  contemporaries  or  immediate 
followers  of  Bacon ;  when,  to  a  new  and  intelligent 
system  of  inquiry,  Nature  began  to  whisper  her 
mighty  secrets;  when  every  penetrative  mind  that 
understood  their  value  rushed  to  her  shrine  and  lis- 
tened reverentially  to  the  great  oracle;  when  the 
rapidity  of  discovery,  following  close  on  a  dreary 
track  of  centuries  barren  of  philosophy,  gratified  the 
love  both  of  the  wonderful  and  of  the  true ;  and 
when  the  passionate  relish  for  fresh  knowledge  pre- 
vented the  observance  of  definitive  boundaries  be- 
tween its  different  regions,  and  tempted  the  inquirer 
to  a  wide  and  adventurous  range.  Dr.  Priestley  has 
recorded  of  himself,  that  he  exercised  without  diffi- 
culty the  power  of  exclusive  attention  to  any  object 
of  study ;  but  it  would  be  a  great  error  to  suppose, 
that  this  mental  habit  in  him  was  the  same  with 
that  profound  and  steady  abstraction  which  charac- 
terized the  intellect  of  Newton,  and  amid  whose 
stillness  he  slowly  paced  the  upward  steps  of  induc- 
tion to  the  sublimest  law  of  the  material  creation. 
Dr.  Priestley's  attention  was  eager  rather  than  pa- 
tient, active  rather  than  laborious ;  suited  to  subjects 
whose  relations  are  various  and  simple,  rather  than 
few  and  intricate  ;  inclined  to  traverse  kindred  prov- 
inces of  thought  in  quest  of  illustration,  more  than 
to  remain  immovable  in  the  construction  of  a  proof. 
His  mind  would  become  restive,  if  it  had  not  scope. 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  27 

It  was  incapable  of  proceeding  long  in  the  linear 
track  of  mathematical  logic.  The  illumination  of 
his  genius  was  rather  diffusive  than  concentrated. 
He  could  never  have  singled  out  any  one  phenome- 
non, and  planted  it  in  an  intense  focus  of  intellect- 
ual light,  till  he  had  fused  it  into  its  elements,  and 
could  exhibit  its  minutest  component  in  distinct 
separation  from  the  rest.  The  kind  of  accurate  ob- 
servation and  cautious  analysis  and  finished  induc- 
tion which  Dr.  Bradley  manifested  in  his  discovery 
of  the  aberration  of  light,  and  which  at  once  de- 
tected, measured,  and  explained,  by  reference  to  a 
new  cause,  one  of  the  minutest  phenomena  of  the 
heavens,  must  be  sought  in  a  different  order  of  intel- 
lect from  Dr.  Priestley's. 

During  the  origin  of  a  science,  when  the  object  is 
to  accumulate  facts  and  arrange  them  according  to 
their  more  obvious  affinities,  the  quality  most  needed 
by  the  philosopher  is  the  quick  perception  of  analo- 
gies which  we  have  ascribed  to  Dr.  Priestley.  Dur- 
ing its  higher  progress,  when  the  object  is  to  include 
large  classes  of  facts  under  some  general  theory,  or 
to  measure  the  precise  amount  of  causes  already 
discovered,  the  quality  most  needed  is  a  searching, 
discriminative  power;  a  quality  most  rarely  united 
with  the  former,  and  certainly  not  distinguishing  the 
philosopher  of  whom  we  speak.  Had  he  possessed 
it,  few  names  greater  than  his  would  have  appeared 
in  the  world's  roll  of  honor.  Because  he  wanted  it, 
many  of  his  philosophical  works  will  have  to  be 
rewritten.  Non  omnis  morielur;  but  while  his  opin- 
ions will  live,  his  own  exposition  of  them  will  hardly 


28  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

satisfy  the  wants  of  a  future  age.  That  Dr.  Hartley, 
at  a  time  when  no  very  precise  limits  had  been 
drawn  between  physical  and  metaphysical  science, 
should  have  entwined  together  a  great  truth  in  the 
philosophy  of  mind  with  a  gratuitous  speculation  in 
the  physiology  of  brain,  is  not  surprising :  that  Dr. 
Priestley  should  have  perceived  that  the  doctrine  of 
association  was  a  fact,  and  the  doctrine  of  vibrations 
a  fancy,  and  have  disentangled  them  from  each 
other,  is  no  more  than  might  have  been  expected  of 
his  discernment :  but  that  he  should  have  separated 
them  merely  on  the  ground  of  their  different  evi- 
dence, without  discovering  their  different  provinces ; 
that,  in  his  character  of  metaphysician,  he  should 
still  have  manifested  a  hankering  after  the  very 
theory  of  which  he  had  disencumbered  his  great 
master's  philosophy ;  that  he  should  have  been  mis- 
led by  the  plausible  analogy  which  promises  to  ex- 
plain the  phenomena  of  mind  by  the  changes  of 
matter,  —  indicates  a  want  of  clear  perception  with 
respect  to  the  due  limits  of  mental  science  which 
should  have  been  reserved  as  the  exclusive  glory  of 
the  phrenologists.  Dr.  Priestley  evidently  thought, 
that,  if  there  were  but  proof  of  the  doctrine  of  vibra- 
tions, it  might  be  duly  expounded  from  the  chair  of 
moral  philosophy;  and  had  no  idea  that  the  pro- 
fessor who  should  do  so  would  deserve  a  caning  for 
his  impertinence  from  his  brother  of  the  physiological 
school.  Nor  is  this  the  only  instance  which  marks 
his  deficiency  of  acute  discriminative  power.  The 
true  test  of  this  rarest  and  highest  of  human  facul- 
ties is  to  be  found  in  the  researches  of  mental  sci- 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  6v 

4 

ence ;  its  most  refined  exercise  is  required,  and  its 
greatest  triumphs  are  achieved,  in  unravelling  the 
subtile  processes  of  reason,  in  penetrating  the  mov- 
ing throng  of  thoughts  and  feelings,  and,  through 
all  their  magic  changes,  distinguishing  the  separate 
character  and  origin  of  each ;  and  clear  as  a  lens 
must  that  mind  be,  which,  in  transmitting  through 
it  the  white  light  of  intellect,  can  faithfully  decom- 
pose it  into  its  elemental  colors.  Dr.  Priestley  had 
far  too  much  perspicacity  not  to  perceive  that  mental 
analysis  might  be  pushed  much  further,  and,  if  intel- 
lectual science  is  to  rank  with  other  sciences,  must 
be  pushed  much  further,  than  it  had  been  carried  by 
the  orthodox  philosophers  of  Scotland.  But  we 
cannot  think  him  happy  in  the  specimens  of  analysis 
which  he  has  left ;  often  ingenious,  they  are  seldom 
complete ;  they  amount  only  to  approximate  solu- 
tions of  the  problem  which  he  was  encountering; 
they  frequently  furnish  valuable  hints  to  the  future 
inquirer,  and  set  him  in  the  right  track ;  but  in  his 
eagerness  to  reach  the  object  of  his  search,  Dr. 
Priestley  overleaps  many  needful  steps  of  the  pro- 
cess, or  breaks  off  in  the  midst,  and  deems  the  task 
accomplished  which  a  more  careful  thinker  would 
feel  to  be  only  commenced.  This  disposition  to  post 
through  a  difficulty,  and  see  nothing  in  it,  is  espe- 
cially apparent,  we  think,  in  his  account  of  the  idea 
of  power,  and  in  his  attempt  to  explain  the  phe- 
nomena of  memory;  and  throughout  his  works  it 
would  be  in  vain  to  look  for  any  thing  like  the  ana- 
lytical ingenuity  of  which  later  writers  belonging  to 
the  same  school,  especially  Brown  and  Mill,  afford 
3* 


30  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

such  elaborate,  though  unsatisfactory  display.  His 
merits  in  the  department  of  mental  science  consist 
less  in  the  success  with  which  he  attacked  its  diffi- 
culties, than  the  skill  with  which  he  multiplied  its 
applications ;  less  in  the  light  which  he  introduced 
into  its  interior  recesses,  than  in  the  range  of  kindred 
subjects  over  which  he  spread  its  illumination.  In 
his  mind  morals,  history,  religion,  appeared  tinged 
with  it,  and  thence  adorned  with  greater  dignity.  In- 
stances of  this  are  to  be  found  in  his  "  History  of 
Early  Opinions,"  his  sermons  "  On  Habitual  Devo- 
tion," "  On  Habit,"  "  On  the  Duty  of  not  Living  to 
Ourselves,"  and  above  all,  in  his  "  Analogy  of  the 
Divine  Dispensations  "  ;  an  essay  which  may  be  re- 
garded as  perhaps  the  happiest  effort  of  his  mind, 
involving  precisely  that  brief  and  simple  exposition 
of  a  metaphysical  principle  with  copiousness  and 
magnitude  of  application,  to  which  his  powers  were 
peculiarly  adapted.  There  is,  too,  a  solemnity  in  it, 
arising  from  the  congeniality  of  its  train  of  thought 
with  all  his  faculties  of  intellect  and  soul,  which  is 
rarely  perceptible  in  his  writings.  It  is  philosophy 
kindling  itself  into  worship. 

Dr.  Priestley's  rank  as  a  linguist  and  a  critic  may 
be  inferred  from  the  qualities  which  we  have  already 
ascribed  or  denied  to  him.  The  same  fertility  of 
association  and  love  of  analogy  which  facilitated  to 
him  the  acquisition  of  a  foreign  language  up  to  a 
certain  point,  rendered  his  complete  mastery  of  it 
almost  impossible.  He  wanted  the  imperturbable 
patience,  the  nice  eye  for  minute  differences,  the  un- 
wearied faith  in  the  importance  of  an  apparent 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  31 

trifle,  which  are  requisite  to  the  character  of  the 
accomplished  philologist.  His  knowledge  of  the 
laws  of  thought  rendered  him  a  perspicuous  inter- 
preter of  the  theory  of  language ;  and,  if  the  sub- 
ject had  been  strongly  urged  upon  his  attention, 
would  perhaps  have  made  him  a  successful  student 
of  philosophical  etymology,  would  have  enabled  him 
to  detect  the  relations  which  group  together  in  a  few 
great  families  the  whole  population  of  words  in  the 
same  language,  and,  having  thus  laid  bare  its  pri- 
meval state,  to  trace  the  successive  steps  of  associa- 
tion by  which  it  has  multiplied  its  resources,  and 
refined  its  susceptibilities  with  the  increasing  wants 
and  more  delicate  perceptions  of  the  minds  whose 
instruments  it  has  been.  There  was  nothing,  at 
least,  to  prevent  his  delineation  of  the  outline  of 
such  a  history ;  the  details  must  have  partaken  of 
the  defects  already  noticed  in  his  mental  analyses. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  however,  the  attempt  was  never 
made.  Nothing  could  ever  have  made  him  forget 
that  language  is  only  the  vehicle  of  ideas,  and  the 
study  of  it,  therefore,  only  a  means  to  an  end ;  and 
we  suspect  that  few  who  are  habitually  impressed 
with  this  undeniable  truth  will  become  men  of  eru- 
dition. We  do  not  question  the  importance  of 
minute  criticism ;  we  admit  that  without  it  the  whole 
meaning  of  an  author  cannot  be  developed,  and  that 
the  lights  and  shades  of  expression  which  it  brings 
out  are  really  lights  and  shades  of  thought,  consti- 
tuting an  essential  element  in  the  graces  of  a  for- 
eign literature.  But  most  readers  are  utilitarians; 
of  the  amount  of  meaning  which  they  lose  by  an 


62  MARTINEAtTS    MISCELLANIES. 

accuracy  not  absolutely  finished  they  are  necessarily 
unconscious,  the  quantity  which  they  gain  will  seem 
enough  for  their  purpose ;  and,  unless  they  possess 
a  sensitiveness  of  taste  seldom  to  be  found,  and  read 
in  order  to  gratify  their  perception  of  the  beautiful, 
they  will  feel  little  inducement  to  brace  themselves 
to  the  long,  barren  toils  of  the  professed  linguist.  It 
may  be  doubted,  however,  whether  Dr.  Priestley 
renounced  the  needful  labor  upon  any  such  deliber- 
ate calculation,  and  whether  he  did  not  greatly  un- 
derrate the  attainments  requisite  for  a  philologist. 
At  least,  we  cannot  but  think  that  many  of  our  grave 
professors,  who  can  lecture  an  hour  upon  a  word, 
would  smile  at  his  characteristic  project  of  trans- 
lating the  whole  Hebrew  Scriptures  himself,  during 
the  intervals  of  other  occupations,  in  three  or  four 
years. 

Dr.  Priestley  has  repeatedly  recorded  of  himself  a 
remarkable  deficiency  of  memory ;  a  want  to  be 
regretted  less  on  its  own  account  than  because,  in 
conjunction  with  another  cause,  it  involved  a  mental 
failure  of  a  more  serious  kind,  —  a  weakness  of  con- 
ception. By  conception  we  mean  the  power  of 
bringing  vividly  before  the  thoughts,  in  combination, 
the  parts  of  any  object  or  any  scene  which  has  been 
presented  to  the  senses  or  the  mind.  It  is  emphati- 
cally the  pictorial  faculty  needed  by  the  illustrating 
artist,  when,  having  gathered  from  Milton  or  from 
Byron  the  elements  of  his  design,  he  brings  them 
harmoniously  together,  and  groups  his  figures,  and 
makes  his  perspective,  and  disposes  his  lights  ; 
needed  by  the  historian,  when,  having  learned  the 


DR.     PRIESTLEY.  33 

catalogue  of  a  great  man's  deeds,  he  blends  these 
fragments  into  an  image  of  his  mind;  or,  having 
collected  the  dispersed  events  of  a  period,  he  dis- 
poses them  in  due  relation  before  his  view,  so  as  to 
become  familiar  with  the  spirit  of  the  time ;  needed 
equally  by  the  theologian,  that  he  may  live  in 
thought  through  the  sacred  days  of  old,  and  become 
pilgrim  in  heart  to  the  Holy  Land ;  that  he  may  not 
only  know  how  many  stamens  there  are  in  the  lilies 
of  the  field,  and  how  many  feet  in  the  cedar's  height, 
but  see  how  they  grace  the  plains  of  Jericho,  or  wave 
upon  the  top  of  Lebanon ;  not  only  count  the  steps 
of  the  temple  and  tell  the  manufacture  of  the  priest's 
robe,  but  gaze  on  the  majestic  pile  from  the  Mount 
of  Olives,  or  stand  in  the  resplendence  of  its  golden 
gate,  and  hear  the  murmur  of  the  prayers,  and  watch 
the  incense  curling  to  the  skies ;  not  merely  dis- 
course on  the  properties  of  hyssop,  and  conjecture 
of  what  timber  the  cross  was  made,  but  mingle 
with  the  weeping  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  and  raise 
a  reverential  eye  towards  the  crucified,  and  listen  to 
that  fainting  cry  of  filial  tenderness.  Now,  both  in 
his  histories  and  in  his  theology,  Dr.  Priestley's  de- 
ficiency of  conception  is  much  felt.  In  the  former 
there  is  not,  as  far  as  we  remember,  a  single  deline- 
ation of  character,  a  scene  or  a  cluster  of  incidents 
as  a  whole,  and  consequently  not  any  picture  that 
leaves  a  strong  impression  upon  the  reader's  mind  : 
they  are  accounts,  not  of  persons  but  of  actions,  not 
of  eras  but  of  events :  the  trains  of  contemporary 
occurrences  in  different  localities  are  placed  before 
us  like  a  number  of  parallel  lines,  with  no  attempt 


34  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

to  twine  them  together ;  and  each  course  of  succes- 
sive events  like  so  many  points,  not  melted  into  a 
continuous  line.  The  nature  of  ecclesiastical  his- 
tory itself  offers,  it  is  true,  a  great  obstacle  to  the 
preservation  of  unity ;  it  is  in  its  very  essence  a  dis- 
location ;  a  number  of  events  which  form  no  proper 
class  in  themselves;  apart  arbitrarily  cut  out  from 
the  whole,  comprising  effects  removed  from  their 
causes,  and  causes  left  alone  by  their  effects :  and, 
independently  of  this  difficulty,  the  materials  of 
ecclesiastical  history  are  unpromising  enough.  Yet 
there  are  portions  containing  elements  for  strong  im- 
pression ;  there  are  persecutions,  and  councils,  and 
crusades ;  there  are  the  broad  contrasts  of  an  idola- 
trous civilization  and  a  barbarous  Christianity,  of  the 
genius  of  Rome  and  the  spirit  of  Christ,  of  the  re- 
ligion of  the  East  and  the  philosophy  of  the  West ; 
there  are  matchless  heroes  of  conscience  in  the  Al- 
pine fastnesses,  and  intrepid  reformers  in  the  cities 
of  Germany :  and  there  is  no  reason  why  the  power 
of  these  passages  should  be  abandoned  to  the  prov- 
ince of  fiction.  The  want  of  picturesque  effect  in 
Dr.  Priestley's  narratives  involves  in  a  great  degree 
a  loss  of  moral  effect ;  by  giving  a  ground  plan  of  a 
persecution,  and  an  enumeration  of  all  the  horrors  it 
contained,  he  produces  rather  a  disgust  at  the  butch- 
ery than  enthusiasm  at  the  magnanimity  with  which 
it  is  said  to  have  been  met.  The  merit  of  his  his- 
tories is  to  be  sought,  not  in  their  narrative  of  inci- 
dents, but  in  their  exposition  of  opinions ;  not  in  the 
facts,  but  in  the  inferences  ;  not  in  the  delineation 
which  shows  what  society  was,  but  in  the  philosophy 
which  proves  what  it  must  have  been. 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  35 

That  the  deficiency  of  which  we  speak  must  di- 
minish the  interest  of  his  theological  writings,  that 
it  must  unfavorably  influence  their  manner,  will  be 
readily  admitted  by  all ;  but  it  may  not  be  at  once 
obvious  how  it  could  affect  their  matter,  and  lessen 
their  intrinsic  soundness  and  truth.  It  is,  however, 
evident  that,  c&teris  paribus,  in  proportion  as  an  in- 
terpreter of  ancient  writings  can  place  himself  in 
sympathy  with  his  author,  can  plant  himself  by  his 
side  and  look  round  on  his  position,  can  even  take 
occupancy  of  his  very  mind,  and  discover  how  all 
things  are  tinged  by  the  hues  of  his  peculiar  intel- 
lect and  feelings,  the  chances  are  multiplied  that  the 
interpretation  will  be  correct.  Indeed,  it  is  merely 
as  aids  to  this  transmutation  of  mind  on  the  part  of 
the  student  that  the  labors  of  the  Scripture  natural- 
ist, the  traveller,  and  the  archasologist  are  valuable. 
Now  Dr.  Priestley  appears  to  us  to  have  been  in- 
capable of  thus  laying  down  his  own  personality : 
at  the  foot  of  Sinai,  among  the  captives  of  Babylon, 
in  audience  of  the  minstrelsy  of  Israel,  on  the  pave- 
ment of  the  temple,  in  the  hired  house  of  Paul,  or 
with  the  exile  in  Patmos,  he  is  the  good,  plain,  spec- 
ulative Dr.  Priestley  still.  He  moves  like  a  foreigner 
through  all  the  scenes  which  he  visits,  too  restless  to 
take  up  his  abode  in  them,  and  grow  warm  beneath 
their  suns,  and  find  a  home  among  their  people,  and 
learn  the  spirit  of  their  joys  and  sorrows,  and  be 
ranked  as  one  who  "loveth  their  nation."  Accord- 
ingly, his  theology  is  too  much  an  Occidental  system 
transplanted  into  the  East ;  he  sees  vastly  too  much 
philosophy,  and  vastly  too  little  poetry,  in  the  Scrip- 


36  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

tures.  He  shows  too  much  disposition  to  change 
their  beautiful  histories  into  imperfect  ethics;  and 
perhaps,  by  missing  the  object  which  the  writers 
had  in  view,  estimates  their  logic  with  real  injustice. 
Whether  illustrations  of  these  peculiarities  may  not 
be  found  in  his  extensive  use  of  the  Gnostic  philos- 
ophy as  a  key  to  the  writings  of  the  Apostle  John, 
in  his  interpretations  of  the  Jewish  prophecies,  in 
his  anticipations  with  respect  to  the  mode  of  transi- 
tion from  this  life  to  another,  and  in  his  apprecia- 
tion of  the  letters  of  Paul,  we  leave  to  be  decided  in 
the  court  of  enlightened  Biblical  criticism.  Let 
not  our  admissions  with  respect  to  Dr.  Priestley's 
theology  be  unfairly  used.  A  name  like  his  is  in- 
deed in  little  danger  from  such  concessions.  Let  it 
be  remembered  that  they  leave  unimpeached  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  processes  by  which  he  proved  and 
proved  again  the  great  truths  which  form  the  defini- 
tion of  Unitarian  Christianity ;  and  until  the  time 
shall  come  (and  it  will  not  be  soon)  when  the  abso- 
lute unity  of  God,  the  universality  and  paternity  of 
his  government,  and  the  simple  humanity  of  Christ, 
shall  need  no  more  defence,  recourse  will  be  had  to 
the  store-house  of  perspicuous  proof  which  his  works 
contain. 

Who  can  draw  for  us  truly  the  boundary  between 
the  intellectual  and  the  active  part  of  human  nature  ? 
The  faculties  into  which  wise  men  distribute  the 
mind,  like  the  hemispheres  into  which  geographers 
divide  the  earth,  though  definable  enough  in  theory, 
are  hard  to  discriminate  in  practice.  Nothing  clearer 
than  the  equator  upon  a  paper  globe ;  and  in  our 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  37 


paper  metaphysics,  nothing  is  easier  of  discovery 
than  that  Chapter  VI.  treats  of  one  faculty,  and 
Chapter  VII.  of  another;  but  Nature  is  far  from 
being  so  obligingly  distinct.  We  remember  the 
days  when,  in  our  childish  conceptions  of  crossing 
the  line,  a  piece  of  graduated  cord,  belting  the  earth, 
was  discernible ;  and  philosophy  has  perhaps  been 
chargeable  with  a  similar  puerility  of  expectation  in 
its  progress  from  the  mental  to  the  moral  regions  of 
the  mind.  They  blend  indistinguishably,  and  recip- 
rocate their  energies,  like  the  waters  of  the  Northern 
and  the  Southern  seas,  whose  currents  flow  and 
whose  billows  roll  together,  irrespective  of  the  arti- 
ficial limits  of  science.  In  the  spiritual,  however,  as 
in  the  material  world,  Nature  gives  notice  of  our 
approach  to  her  impalpable  boundaries :  she  has 
her  realms  of  transition :  the  traveller,  nearing  the 
earth's  other  half,  finds  a  more  copious  vegetation, 
and  warmer  suns,  and  loftier  skies,  and  bluer  hills : 
and  the  explorer  of  the  soul,  passing  from  the  intel- 
lect to  the  morality  of  man,  will  find  an  intermedi- 
ate region,  adorned  with  a  more  exuberant  foliage  of 
thought,  invested  with  a  more  glowing  atmosphere 
of  emotion.  It  is  in  no  trifling  sense  that  the  poet- 
ical faculty,  the  perception  and  the  love  of  beauty, 
whether  physical  or  moral,  may  be  said  to  lie  be- 
tween the  thinking  and  the  motive  departments  of 
the  mind  :  it  cannot  be  identified  with  either,  yet  it 
pervades  both  :  it  belongs  exclusively  to  neither,  yet 
sheds  an  influence  on  both,  kindling  with  new  tints 
both  truth  and  goodness :  like  the  constellations  of 
the  equatorial  heavens,  it  has  its  stars  in  both  hemi- 
4 


38  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

spheres,  and  cannot  be  cut  off  from  either  without 
extinguishing  some  of  its  essential  lights. 

But  perhaps  we  are  making  a  longer  pilgrimage 
than  was  needful  from  Dr.  Priestley's  intellectual  to 
his  moral  character;  for  in  fact  very  little  lay  be- 
tween.    With  him  duty  was  a  portion  of  truth,  a 
series  of  inferences  from  his  philosophy ;  clear  and 
strong  conviction,  rather  than  warm  affection,  char- 
acterized his  notions  of  right.     Never  was  there  a 
mind  over  which  moral  principle  exercised  a  more 
paramount  sway;  but  his  was  no  blind  and  super- 
stitious obedience :  with  him  conscience  could  not 
be  moved  without  being  convinced ;  but  only  show 
him  on  evidence  the  reasonableness  of  any  habit  or 
train  of  feelings,  and  he  would  set  himself  to  its  cul- 
tivation without  further  demur ;  he  would  no  more 
have  thought  of  not  doing  what  was  right,  than  of 
not  believing  what  was  true.     No  one  can  be  sur- 
prised that  Dr.  Priestley  repudiated  as  an  absurdity 
the  doctrine  of  an  instinctive  moral  sense ;  for  he 
was  singularly  free  from  those  mental  qualities  which 
lead  to  this  belief.     It  is  the  natural  creed  of  those 
whose  intellects  are  slow  in   comparison  with  the 
quickness  of  their  feelings,  whose  moral  judgment 
possesses  a  speed  too  fast  for  their  mental  eye  to 
trace,  flashing  on  them  with  such  velocity  and  in- 
tensity that,  like  the  lightning,  they  seem  to  dart 
from  heaven  to  earth,  without  traversing  the  space 
between.     Dr.  Priestley's  mind  was  the  reverse  of 
this ;  his  emotions  were  never  so  intense  as  to  sus- 
pend his  observing  faculty;    and  his  intellect  was 
rapid  enough  to  keep  pace  with  them  and  mark  their 


DR.     PRIESTLEY.  39 

apparent  course.  His  sentiments  of  moral  approba- 
tion and  disapprobation  sufficiently  resembled  the 
processes  of  assent  and  dissent  to  send  him  in  quest 
of  a  common  origin  for  both  in  the  association  of 
ideas. 

It  is  instructive  to  compare  the  corresponding  parts 
of  such  different  characters  as  Mrs.  Barbauld's  and  Dr. 
Priestley's ;  and  in  the  essay  on  devotional  taste  by 
the  former,  contrasted  with  the  strictures  on  it  by  the 
latter,  we  have  a  picture  of  the  piety  of  the  exclusive- 
ly poetical,  placed  side  by  side  with  that  of  the  exclu- 
sively philosophical.  Every  religious  mind  feels  its 
religion  to  be  the  loftiest  object  of  its  regard,  to  lie  at 
the  very  summit  of  its  powers ;  and  in  the  effort  to 
reach  the  infinite  and  eternal,  in  yearning  to  shadow 
forth  the  idea  of  unlimited  perfection,  naturally  seeks 
for  its  faith  an  alliance  with  all  that  appears  most 
interesting  and  glorious.  Mrs.  Barbauld's  passion 
was  for  the  beautiful  and  the  sublime ;  and  to  her,  de- 
votion was  poetry,  akin  to  the  aspirations  of  genius : 
Dr.  Priestley  knew  nothing  so  noble  as  truth  ;  and  to 
him  devotion  was  philosophy  gazing  calmly  at  the 
only  object  above  itself.  Mrs.  Barbauld  saw  in  all 
creeds  some  elements  of  adoration  for  the  heart,  and 
dreaded  lest  controversy  should  brush  off  the  emo- 
tions they  awakened  :  Dr.  Priestley  saw  in  all  creeds 
much  error,  and  hoped  that  controversy  would  render 
them  more  quickening,  by  making  them  more  pure. 
Mrs.  Barbauld  understood  the  natural  language  of 
art,  felt  the  deep  expressiveness  of  whatever  is  beau- 
tiful in  form  and  sound,  and  would  have  given  to 
piety  the  majesty  of  architecture,  and  the  voice  of 


40  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

music :  Dr.  Priestley  though^  that  the  eye  and  the 
ear,  with  their  physical  gratifications,  were  only  in 
the  way  in  the  work  of  realizing  great  general  truth, 
and  "would  have  worshipped  with  the  simplicity  of 
a  spirit  in  space.  Mrs.  Barbauld  reverenced  human 
affections,  even  in  their  illusions  and  extravagances ; 
she  saw  in  them  the  passion  for  excellence,  and  the 
propensity  to  believe  in  its  reality;  she  had  probably 
observed  the  important  fact  (so  conspicuous  in  Dod- 
dridge),  that  the  tempers  which  are  most  devotional 
are  generally  the  most  tender  in  their  human  rela- 
tions ;  she  could  discover  no  specific  difference  be- 
tween the  emotions  yielded  to  ideal  excellence  on 
earth,  and  invisible  perfection  in  heaven;  and  she 
dared  to  find  an  analogy  between  piety  and  love : 
Dr.  Priestley,  little  given  to  Platonisms  of  fancy, 
holding  that  all  feeling  should  be  proportioned  to  the 
real  qualities  of  its  object,  and  forgetting  that  it  can- 
not overpass  the  gulf  between  the  created  and  the 
Creator,  and  expand  itself  to  literal  infinitude,  con- 
demned the  expression  as  false  and  profane.  Perhaps 
each  was  right,  except  in  condemning  the  notions  of 
the  other.  Happily,  religion  has  its  affinities  with 
the  whole  soul,  and  there  is  no  faculty  incapable  of 
worship.  One  mind  is  affected  by  conceptions  of 
immeasurable  space  and  time,  another  by  ideas  of 
life  and  change :  one  prefers  the  blank,  great  truth, 
another  the  single  and  moving  instance :  one  to  go 
forth  and  seek  the  object  of  its  adoration  in  fields  be- 
yond the  solar  light,  another  to  bring  his  image  home, 
and  feel  him  in  the  closet  or  in  the  mind :  one,  when 
standing  before  the  invisible,  may  love  to  look  into 

- 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  41 

the  deep  background  of  infinity  which  lies  behind 
created  things;  another,  to  gaze  on  the  beautiful 
forms  of  reality,  sketched  on  its  dark  surface,  and 
take  them  as  types  of  what  lies  in  the  depth.  Why 
limit  the  modes  of  devotional  conception?  Why 
say  to  any  emotions  or  any  thoughts,  "  You  shall 
not  worship,"  to  any  desires,  "  You  shall  not  pray  "  ? 
There  can  be  no  proprieties  here.  Prayer  is  no  more 
than  the  utterance,  the  irrepressible  utterance,  of  the 
affections  which  most  adorn  and  dignify  human  na- 
ture; it  is  the  soul's  act  in  laying  itself  consciously 
open  at  the  feet  of  God ;  it  is  the  gush  of  tenderness 
with  which  the  spirit  pours  forth  its  burning  emo- 
tions of  veneration  and  love ;  it  is  the  joy,  or  the 
agony,  or  the  shame  of  placing  the  mind  as  it  is,  in 
contact  with  the  great  parent  mind,  that  its  sins 
may  become  clearer,  its  wants  more  craving,  that  its 
life  may  be  quickened,  and  its  sympathies  refreshed. 
This  is  the  end,  this  the  temper  of  piety  ;  every  thing 
else  is  but  its  instrument ;  and  that  mode  of  thought 
and  expression  which  is  truest  to  each  individual 
mind,  must  be  that  mind's  best  vehicle  of  devotion. 

But  however  little  of  apparent  glow  there  might 
be  in  Dr.  Priestley's  piety,  it  was,  like  every  thing  else 
in  his  nature,  sincere  and  true ;  and  it  conducted  him 
with  a  moral  dignity,  sometimes  reaching  the  high- 
est kind  of  greatness,  through  a  life  of  no  ordinary 
vicissitude.  It  is  difficult,  even  at  this  distance  of 
time,  in  the  quiet  of  one's  study,  with  abundant 
proofs  that  better  times  have  set  in,  nay,  in  immedi- 
ate view  of  ten  Irish  bishops  and  church-rates  disap- 
pearing under  the  ministerial  extinguisher,  to  read 
4* 


42  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  history  of  the  Birmingham  riots  with  due  com- 
posure. And  yet  the  great  sufferer  himself,  the 
pastor  driven  from  his  flock,  the  author  despoiled  of 
his  manuscripts,  the  toil  of  years,  the  philosopher 
almost  within  hearing  of  the  crash  of  his  apparatus, 
the  philanthropist  hunted  for  his  noble  sympathy 
with  his  race,  the  man  robbed  of  his  social  rights, 
uplifts  amid  the  violence  a  front  of  unbroken,  yet 
not  cold  magnanimity.  Indeed,  it  is  this  very  calm- 
ness, so  instantaneous,  so  unlabored,  so  utterly  free 
from  stoicism,  far  more  than  the  mere  exhibition  of 
suffering,  that  is  most  affecting  in  this  narrative. 
There  is  an  evident  simplicity  and  fidelity  in  his  de- 
lineation of  his  own  state  of  mind  which  inspires  one 
with  that  most  delightful  feeling,  —  perfect  faith  in  a 
fellow-being.  There  is  no  excitement;  the  deeps  of 
his  nature  were  stirred,  but  they  were  only  freshened, 
not  thrown  into  storm  :  there  is  no  exaggeration,  no 
consciousness  of  being  an  object  of  interest,  no  en- 
durance for  the  sake  of  setting  an  example,  no  sec- 
tarian triumph  secretly  exclaiming,  "  See  what  my 
principles  can  do":  the  same  sentiments  of  sublime 
necessarian  piety,  the  same  indignation  quelled  in 
the  faith  that  present  evil  is  the  index  that  points  to 
future  good,  the  same  compassion  for  those  who 
wronged  him,  neither  mawkish  nor  haughty,  which 
appear  in  his  replies  to  public  addresses,  appear  also, 
and  with  just  the  same  prominence,  in  his  careless 
and  familiar  letters.  It  was  obvious  that  in  all  times 
past  he  had  been  faithful  to  his  scheme  of  Christian 
philosophy,  and  deeply  imbedded  in  his  mind  and 
heart  every  principle  which  his  judgment  had  led  him 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  43 

to  advocate.  And  he  lived  to  afford  a  long  fulfil- 
ment to  his  own  prediction  of  the  efficacy  of  his  faith. 
After  lingering  in  England  long  enough  to  follow  to 
the  grave  his  tried  friend,  Dr.  Price,  to  see  other  as- 
sociates fast  falling  around  him,  to  find  himself 
shunned  by  the  society  which  represented  the  science 
of  his  country,  and  whose  records  he  had  enriched 
by  his  discoveries,  to  be  wearied  by  ceaseless  calum- 
nies in  the  senate  and  from  the  press,  and  feel  that 
here  was  no  home  for  himself  or  his  children :  on  the 
confines  of  old  age,  he  went  forth  to  die  in  the  land 
on  whose  promised  destinies  his  eye,  ever  brightened 
by  the  hopes  of  humanity,  had  long  been  fixed ; 
deeming  it  happier  to  live  a  stranger  on  the  shores 
of  liberty,  than  be  dependent  on  the  tender  mercy 
of  tyrants  for  a  footing  on  his  native  soil.  There,  in 
one  of  its  remoter  recesses,  on  the  outer  margin  of 
civilization,  he,  who  had  made  a  part  of  the  world's 
briskest  activity,  who  had  led  on  the  speed  of  its 
progress,  whose  mind  had  kept  pace  with  its  learn- 
ing, and  overtaken  its  science,  and  outstripped  its 
freedom  and  its  morality,  gathered  together  his  re- 
sources of  philosophy  and  devotion ;  thence  he  looked 
forth  on  the  vicissitudes  and  prospects  of  Europe, 
with  melancholy  but  hopeful  interest,  like  the  proph- 
et from  his  mount  on  the  land  whose  glories  he  was 
not  to  see.  But  it  was  not  for  such  an  energetic 
spirit  as  his  to  pass  instantaneously  into  the  quietude 
of  exile  without  an  irrecoverable  shock.  He  had  not 
that  dreamy  and  idle  pietism  which  could  enwrap 
itself  in  the  mists  of  its  own  contemplations,  and  be- 
lieve heaven  nearer  in  proportion  as  earth  became 


44  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

less  distinct.  The  shifting  sights  and  busy  murmurs 
that  reached  him  from  afar,  reminded  him  of  the 
circulation  of  social  toils  which  had  plied  his  hand 
and  heart.  Year  after  year  passed  on,  and  brought 
him  no  summons  of  duty  back  into  the  stir  of  men : 
all  that  he  did  he  had  to  devise  and  execute  by  his 
own  solitary  energies,  apart  from  advice  and  sympa- 
thy, and  with  no  hope  but  that  of  benefiting  the 
world  he  was  soon  to  quit.  The  effort  to  exchange 
the  habits  of  the  city  for  those  of  the  cloister  was 
astonishingly  successful.  But  his  mind  was  never 
the  same  again ;  it  is  impossible  not  to  perceive  a 
decline  of  power,  a  tendency  to  garrulity  of  style  and 
eccentricity  of  speculation  in  his  American  publica- 
tions. And  yet,  while  this  slight  though  perceptible 
shade  fell  upon  his  intellect,  a  softened  light  seemed 
to  spread  itself  over  his  character.  His  feelings,  his 
moral  perceptions,  were  mellowed  and  ripened  by 
years,  and  assumed  a  tenderness  and  refinement  not 
observable  before.  Thanks  to  the  genial  and  heav- 
enly clime  which  Christianity  sheds  around  the  soul, 
the  aged  stem  burst  into  blossom.  And  so  it  will 
always  be  when  the  mind  is  pervaded  by  a  faith  as 
real  as  Priestley's.  There  is  no  law  of  nature,  there 
are  no  frosts  of  time,  to  shed  a  snow-blight  on  the 
heart.  The  feelings  die  out,  when  their  objects  come 
to  an  end ;  and  if  there  be  no  future,  and  the  aims 
of  life  become  shorter  and  shorter,  and  its  treasures 
drop  off,  and  its  attractions  are  spent,  and  a  few  links 
only  of  its  hours  remain  in  the  hand,  well  may  there 
be  no  heart  for  effort  and  no  eye  for  beauty,  and  well 
may  love  gather  itself  up  to  die.  But  open  perfec- 


DR.     PRIESTLEY.  45 

tion  to  its  veneration,  and  immortality  to  its  step  ; 
tell  it  of  one  who  is  and  will  always  be  the  inspirer 
of  genius,  the  originator  of  truth,  the  life  of  emotion; 
assure  it  that  all  which  is  loved  shall  live  for  ever,  that 
that  which  is  known  shall  enlarge  for  ever,  that  all 
which  is  felt  shall  grow  intenser  for  ever ;  —  and  the 
proximity  to  death  will  quicken  instead  of  withering 
the  mind  ;  the  eye  will  grow  dim  on  the  open  page 
of  knowledge;  the  hand  will  be  found  clasping  in 
death  the  instruments  of  human  good;  the  heart's 
last  pulse  will  beat  with  some  new  emotion  of  benig- 
nity. In  Priestley's  case  there  was  not  merely  a  sus- 
tainment,  but  a  positive  advancement  of  character  in 
later  years.  The  symptoms  of  restlessness  gradually 
disappear  without  abatement  of  his  activity ;  a  qui- 
etude as  of  one  who  waits  and  listens  comes  over 
him ;  there  are  touches  of  sentiment  and  traces  of 
tears  in  his  letters,  and  yet  an  obvious  increase  of 
serenity  and  hope  ;  there  is  a  disposition  to  devise 
and  accomplish  more  good  for  the  world,  and  ply 
himself  while  an  energy  remained,  and  yet  no  anxi- 
ety to  do  what  was  beyond  his  powers.  He  succes- 
sively followed  to  the  grave  a  son  and  a  wife ;  and 
the  more  he  was  left  alone,  the  more  did  he  learn  to 
love  to  be  alone ;  and  in  his  study,  surrounded  by 
the  books  which  had  been  his  companions  through 
half  a  century  and  over  half  the  earth,  and  sitting  be- 
neath the  pictures  of  friends  under  the  turf,  he  took 
his  last  survey  of  the  world  which  had  given  him  so 
long  a  shelter :  like  a  grateful  guest  before  his  depart- 
ure, he  numbered  up  the  bright  and  social  or  the  ad- 
venturous hours  which  had  passed  during  his  stay ; 


46  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

and  the  philosophers  who  had  welcomed  him  in  his 
annual  visits  to  London,  the  broad,  sagacious  face 
of  Franklin,  the  benignant  intelligence  of  Price, 
rose  up  before  him,  and  the  social  voices  of  the 
group  of  heretics  round  the  fireside  of  Essex  Street 
floated  on  his  ear ;  and,  as  the  full  moon  shone  upon 
his  table,  and  glistened  in  his  electrical  machine,  his 
eye  would  dream  of  the  dining  philosophers  of  the 
Lunar  Society,  and  light  up  to  greet  again  the 
doughty  features  of  Darwin,  and  the  clear,  calculat- 
ing eye  of  Watt.  Yet  his  retrospective  thoughts 
were  but  hints  to  suggest  a  train  of  prospective  far 
more  interesting.  The  scenes  which  he  loved  were 
in  the  past,  but  most  of  the  objects  that  clothed 
them  with  associations  of  interest  were  already  trans- 
ferred to  the  future ;  there  they  were  in  reserve  for 
him,  to  be  recovered  (to  use  his  own  favorite  phrase, 
slightly  tinged  with  the  melancholy  spirit  of  his  soli- 
tude) "under  more  favorable  circumstances";  and 
thither,  with  all  his  attachment  to  the  world  whose 
last  cliffs  he  had  reached,  and  whose  boundary  ocean 
already  murmured  beneath,  he  hoped  soon  to  emi- 
grate. 

There  are  few  dispositions  of  which  society  ex- 
hibits rarer  practical  traces  than  the  love  of  truth. 
There  is  abundance  of  profession ;  but  the  more  the 
profession,  the  less  the  reality.  Where  the  feeling 
is  genuine,  truth  is  the  mind's  vernacular  language  ; 
and  to  give  grave  notice  of  an  intention  to  utter  it 
would  be  as  absurd  as  if  an  advocate,  on  rising, 
were  to  say  to  the  jury,  "  Gentlemen,  I  most  sol- 
emnly assure  you,  that  in  what  I  am  about  to  lay 


DR.     PRIESTLEY.  47 

before  you  I  mean  to  speak  English."  In  propor- 
tion as  faith  in  truth  becomes  more  common,  it  will 
cease  to  be  matter  of  pretension.  Were  we  to  des- 
ignate Dr.  Priestley  in  one  word,  that  word  would 
be  "truth";  it  would  correctly  describe  the  employ- 
ment of  his  intellect,  the  essential  feeling  of  his 
heart,  the  first  axiom  of  his  morality,  and  even  the 
impression  of  his  outward  deportment.  He  had 
none  of  that  reckless  sportiveness  which  makes  play- 
things of  opinions,  and,  for  an  hour's  amusement, 
looks  in  at  them,  and  turns  them  about,  like  the 
beads  of  a  kaleidoscope,  watching  what  fantastical 
shapes  they  may  be  made  to  assume.  He  had  no 
sympathy  with  the  sceptical  philosophy  which  sees 
nothing  but  error  in  all  human  speculation,  nothing 
but  "  sick  men's  dreams  "  in  the  mutations  of  opin- 
ion. That  there  is  such  a  thing  as  truth,  that  it  is 
not  placed  beyond  the  reach  of  the  human  under- 
standing, and  that,  when  found,  it  is  necessarily  a 
pure  good,  were  the  first  principles  of  his  faith  ;  prin- 
ciples which  he  did  not  promulgate  in  their  general 
form,  and  then  reject  in  their  applications,  but  car- 
ried out  boldly,  and  without  reserve,  into  every  topic 
which  invited  his  research.  So  utterly  untrue  is  it 
that  he  had  a  passion  for  unsettling  convictions,  and 
then  leaving  the  mind  in  a  state  of  fluctuation,  that 
if  he  committed  any  marked  fault  in  the  conduct  of 
investigation,  it  was  this;  —  that  he  recognized  no 
other  posture  of  the  understanding  in  reference  to 
the  subject  of  its  inquiry  than  assent  and  dissent; 
that  the  intermediate  state  of  doubt  he  disowned, 
except  as  a  means  of  transition  to  one  of  the  other 


48  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

two ;  and  overlooked  the  fact,  that,  as  there  may  be 
questions  in  which  the  conflicting  evidence  is  accu- 
rately balanced,  there  may  be  occasions  on  which,  in 
the  present  condition  of  human  knowledge,  sus- 
pense is  the  appropriate  feeling.  His  tendency  was 
much  more  to  dogmatize  than  to  doubt ;  a  dogma- 
tism, however,  which,  if  occasionally  appearing  after 
investigation,  never  manifested  itself  before.  With 
this  limitation,  his  impartiality  was  unimpeachable. 
That  his  inquiry  must  lead  to  the  positive  discovery 
of  truth  or  falsehood  was  certainly  a  species  of  pre- 
judginent;  but  it  could  not  determine  him  unfairly 
towards  either  of  two  antagonist  opinions ;  it  could 
only  preclude  from  the  rejection  of  both.  In  his 
comparison  of  the  opposing  claims  of  evidence,  his 
faith  in  truth  never  deserted  him ;  altogether  annihi- 
lating the  influence  of  his  previous  impressions,  and 
not  even  allowing  them  a  presumption  of  innocence 
till  proved  to  be  guilty.  His  versatility  of  associa- 
tion rendered  alterations  of  belief  easier  to  him  than 
to  others  :  his  feelings  were  not  adhesive ;  they  could 
without  violence  be  transferred  from  one  class  of 
sentiments  to  another ;  and  accordingly,  even  to  the 
period  of  life  when  old  impressions  become  indu- 
rated, and  the  emotions  tardy  of  change,  he  was 
continually  modifying  his  convictions,  adopting  new 
views  with  a  facility  truly  wonderful,  quickening 
them  with  life,  and  carrying  them  out  to  their  re- 
moter consequences  with  energy  and  fearlessness. 
His  defence  of  the  doctrine  of  phlogiston,  when  dis- 
carded by  all  other  philosophers,  is  the  solitary  in- 
stance in  his  life  of  prejudiced  tenacity  of  opinion ; 


DR.     PRIESTLEY.  49 

and  this  was  evinced  in  the  decline  of  life,  when 
even  to  him  the  difficulty  must  have  been  great  of 
admitting  a  new  theory,  and  applying  it  to  the  solu- 
tion of  facts  which  had  been  regarded  as  otherwise 
explained,  and  when,  moreover,  his  attention  had 
ceased  to  be  actively  directed  to  chemical  inquiries. 
Any  one  who  is  aware  how  much  the  very  memory 
of  facts  by  the  mind  is  dependent  on  the  hypothesis 
•which  has  been  employed  as  the  principle  of  their 
arrangement,  or  even  as  the  guide  to  their  discovery, 
will  be  disposed  to  treat  this  error  rather  as  interest- 
ing to  the  mental  philosopher,  than  as  justifying  the 
severity  of  the  critic.  The  spirit  of  freedom  and  of 
faith  which  conducted  him  through  his  private  inqui- 
ries, he  carried  out  into  his  publication  of  their  re- 
sults. Ingenuous  to  himself,  he  was  equally  ingenu- 
ous to  the  world.  He  saw  through  the  contemptible 
fallacies  by  which  worldliness  and  imbecility  would 
defend  the  suppression  of  opinions ;  ease,  popularity, 
sectarian  prosperity,  he  held  to  be  bawbles  compared 
with  the  duty  of  individual  thought  and  speech,  and 
sins  if  purchased  at  its  expense.  Not  even  could 
he  think  his  task  to  society  performed  when  he  had 
stated  and  recommended  the  truths  which  he  seemed 
to  have  reached :  he  lays  before  the  world  the  whole 
process  of  his  own  mind;  tells  his  difficulties,  his 
failures,  his  false  inferences,  the  hypotheses  which 
misled  as  well  as  those  which  aided  him  ;  so  that  if 
his  thoughts  had  fallen  into  type  as  they  arose,  they 
could  scarcely  have  been  more  distinct.  Hence  he 
excelled  much  more  in  analytical  than  in  synthetical 
composition,  and  seldom  attempted  the  latter  with- 
5 


50  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

out  sliding  continually  into  the  former.  And  what- 
ever may  be  thought  of  their  relative  merits,  regard- 
ed as  methods  of  direct  instruction,  it  cannot  be 
doubted  that  the  successful  investigator,  who  has  the 
honesty  to  write  analytically,  bequeathes  in  this  pic- 
ture of  his  own  intellect  an  invaluable  guide  to 
future  inquirers  in  the  same  field,  and  a  most  inter- 
esting study  to  the  observer  of  the  human  mind. 

In  nothing  did  Dr.  Priestley's  mental  and  moral 
freedom  more  nobly  manifest  itself  than  in  his  well- 
proportioned  love  of  truth.  With  all  his  diversity  of 
pursuit,  he  did  not  think  all  truth  of  equal  impor- 
tance, or  deem  the  diffusion  of  useful  knowledge  an 
excuse  for  withholding  the  more  useful.  With  all 
his  ardor  of  mind,  he  did  not  look  at  an  object  till 
he  saw  nothing  else,  and  it  became  his  universe.  He 
made  his  estimate  deliberately ;  and  he  was  not  to 
be  dazzled,  or  flattered,  or  laughed  out  of  it.  In  his 
laboratory,  he  thought  no  better  of  chemistry  than 
in  his  pulpit ;  and  in  the  drawing-rooms  of  the 
French  Academicians,  no  worse  of  Christianity  than 
by  the  firesides  of  his  own  flock.  He  was  never 
anxious  to  appear  in  either  less  or  more  than  his  real 
character.  Even  at  the  time  when  his  name  was 
most  illustrious,  and  his  associations  the  most  close 
with  the  atheistical  philosophers  of  the  Continent ; 
when  he  was  courted  by  the  revolutionists  of  Eng- 
land, when,  by  the  persecution  and  desertion  of  all 
others,  he  was  more  especially  thrown  upon  the 
sympathy  of  those  men,  and  a  noble  and  fascinating 
sympathy  it  was ;  when  they  urged  him  to  quit  the 
"  unfruitful  fields  of  polemical  divinity,  and  cultivate 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  51 

the  philosophy  of  which  he  was  the  father,"  and 
promised  him  thus  an  eternal  fame;  —  he  assures 
them  that  he  esteems  his  theology  of  far  greater  im- 
portance to  mankind  than  his  science,  and  risks  his 
reputation  at  its  height,  by  making  it  the  vehicle  to 
carry  the  great  principles  of  religion  before  the 
almost  inaccessible  mind  of  the  sceptics  of  France : 
perceiving  the  affinities  and  analogies  which  subsist- 
ed between  the  different  departments  of  human 
knowledge,  he  did  not  desire  to  divorce  them  in  his 
own  mind,  and  derive  a  separate  character  from  each. 
His  philosophy  is  replete  with  faith,  and  his  faith 
with  philosophy ;  his  conceptions  of  the  Creator  aid 
him  in  deciphering  the  creation  ;  and  every  discovery 
in  creation  contributes  a  new  element  to  his  ideas  of 
the  Creator.  The  changes  of  the  universe  are  the 
movements  of  God ;  and  he  that  contemplates  them 
without  reference  to  the  mind  of  which  they  are  ex- 
pressive, might  as  well  study  the  laws  of  human 
action  in  the  gestures  of  an  automaton. 

It  is  impossible  to  make  human  character  a  study 
without  being  tempted  to  speculate  on  the  causes  of 
the  marvellous  varieties  which  it  exhibits.  That 
those  causes  are  not  all  external  to  the  mind,  scarcely 
admits  of  a  doubt ;  and  so  difficult  is  it  to  define,  or 
even  to  conjecture,  those  which  are  inherent  in  the 
mental  constitution,  that  the  philosophy  of  individual 
character  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  any  existence. 
Priestley  was  an  adherent  of  that  school  by  which 
all  the  phenomena  of  mind,  whether  intellectual  or 
moral,  were  resolved  into  cases  of  the  law  of  associ- 
ation ;  but  why  the  law  in  question,  operating  on 


52  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  ideas  furnished  by  sensation,  should  produce 
results  so  much  more  widely  divergent  from  each 
other  than  are  the  external  circumstances  of  man- 
kind, is  a  problem  very  embarrassing  to  the  resources 
of  this  doctrine.  Perhaps  more  might  be  explained 
by  original  differences  of  sensibility  than  is  com- 
monly imagined.  Were  it  true  that  the  affections 
are  the  results  of  pleasurable  and  painful  associa- 
tions, that  desire  is  simply  the  idea  of  a  pleasure, 
and  aversion  the  idea  of  a  pain,  it  would  follow 
that  the  vividness  of  the  affections,  the  strength  of 
the  desires,  and  aversions  must  depend  on  the  viv- 
idness of  the  primary  sensation ;  in  other  words, 
that  the  warmth  of  the  moral  part  of  human  na- 
ture must  vary  with  the  degree  of  original  sensi- 
bility. 

In  this  explanation,  however,  it  is  evident  that  no 
reason  is  involved,  accounting  for  the  relative  promi- 
nence of  the  several  moral  faculties ;  it  is  only  their 
absolute  strength,  the  amount  of  fervor  and  enthusi- 
asm, which  would  be  explained.  Possibly,  however, 
the  theory  might  be  carried  further,  so  as  to  provide 
an  adequate  cause  for  several  intellectual  peculiari- 
ties. The  sensations  supposed  to  form  the  elements 
of  all  knowledge  are  received  either  simultaneously 
or  successively :  when  several  are  received  simultane- 
ously, as  the  smell,  the  taste,  the  color,  the  form,  &c., 
of  a  fruit,  their  association  together  constitutes,  ac- 
cording to  this  theory,  our  idea  of  an  object ;  when 
received  successively,  their  association  makes  up  the 
idea  of  an  event.  Any  thing,  then,  which  should 
javor  the  associations  of  synchronous  ideas,  would 


DR.     PRIESTLEY.  53 

tend  to  produce  a  knowledge  of  objects,  a  perception 
of  qualities ;  while  any  thing  which  should  favor 
association  in  the  successive  order  would  tend  to 
produce  a  knowledge  of  events,  of  the  order  of 
occurrences,  and  of  the  connection  of  cause  and 
effect :  in  other  words,  in  the  one  case  a  perceptive 
mind,  with  a  discriminative  feeling  of  the  pleasura- 
ble and  painful  properties  of  things,  a  sense  of  the 
grand  and  the  beautiful,  would  be  the  result ;  in  the 
other,  a  mind  attentive  to  the  movements  and  phe- 
nomena, a  ratiocinatlve  and  philosophic  intellect. 
Now  it  is  an  acknowledged  principle  in  the  philos- 
ophy of  suggestion,  that  all  sensations  experienced 
during  the  presence  of  any  vivid  impression  become 
strongly  associated  with  it,  and  with  each  other ; 
and  does  it  not  follow,  that  the  synchronous  feelings 
of  a  sensitive  constitution  (i.  e.  the  one  which  has 
vivid  impressions)  will  be  more  intimately  blended 
than  in  a  differently  formed  mind  ?  This  sugges- 
tion involves  an  inference  which  might  serve  to  verify 
or  refute  it ;  that  where  nature  has  endowed  an  indi- 
vidual with  great  original  susceptibility,  he  will  prob- 
ably be  distinguished  by  fondness  for  natural  history, 
a  relish  for  the  beautiful  and  great,  and  moral  enthu- 
siasm; where  there  is  but  a  mediocrity  of  sensi- 
bility, a  love  of  science,  of  abstract  truth,  with  a 
deficiency  of  taste  and  of  fervor,  is  likely  to  be  the 
result. 

Might  not  many  of  Dr.  Priestley's  characteristics 

be  traced,  in  consistency  with  his  own  philosophy, 

to  such  an  original  mediocrity  of  sensibility  ?  —  his 

want  of  memory,  to  a  deficient  vividness  in  the  asso- 

5* 


54  MARTINEAU'S  MISCELLANIES. 

elated  ideas  ?  —  his  versatility  and  rapidity  of  asso- 
ciation, to  the  absence  of  any  strong  concentrative 
emotion  tending  to  arrest  his  thoughts  at  any  point 
in  a  train,  and  to  forbid  them  to  pass  on?  —  the 
direction  of  his  analogical  power  towards  philosophi- 
cal invention,  rather  than  poetical  imagination,  to 
his  want  of  perception  of  the  beautiful  ?  —  his  even- 
ness of  temper  and  spirits,  to  a  freedom  from  that 
alternate  action  and  reaction  to  which  susceptible 
minds  are  liable  ?  Perhaps  even  the  inability  which 
he  mentions  to  do  any  thing  when  hurried,  might 
admit  of  a  similar  explanation.  For  what  is  the 
feeling  of  hurry,  but  a  belief  that  an  unusual  exer- 
cise of  vigor,  a  great  gathering  of  power,  must  be 
put  in  requisition,  in  order  to  accomplish  some  de- 
sired object?  And  one  whose  uniformity  of  tem- 
perament gives  no  experience  of  such  occasional 
expansion  of  power  has  no  faith  in  its  possibility,  or 
its  effect :  and  hence  he  despairs,  when  the  man  of 
impulse  becomes  inspired.  We  throw  out  these 
brief  hints  with  great  diffidence,  for  the  consideration 
of  those  who  feel  the  defects,  and  would  improve  the 
resources,  of  the  association-philosophy ;  they  can  be 
of  no  further  use,  than  to  suggest  something  better 
than  themselves  to  more  competent  thinkers.  Our 
main  object  in  the  remarks  which  have  been  made 
on  Priestley  has  been,  to  revive  the  memory  of  a 
great  man,  at  a  period  more  favorable  than  any  since 
his  death  to  a  just  estimate  of  his  character;  to 
furnish  a  faithful  delineation  of  his  whole  mind ;  to 
aid  in  determining  his  true  position  among  the  bene- 
factors of  mankind;  and  define  his  claims  on  the 


DR.    PRIESTLEY.  55 

veneration  of  his  country.  If  we  have  in  any  de- 
gree succeeded  in  these  objects,  it  will  be  no  slight 
satisfaction  to  have  performed  some  little  part  of 
the  act  of  posthumous  justice  due  from  this  gen- 
eration. 


THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 
THOMAS  ARNOLD,  D.  D.* 

[From  the  Prospective  Eeview  for  February,  1845.] 

IN  the  preparation  of  these  volumes  Mr.  Stanley 
had  to  perform  a  sad  and  solemn  task.  To  present 
to  the  world  the  last  glimpse  of  one  who  had  been 
its  benefactor,  is  at  all  times  a  melancholy  office. 
But  it  is  a  bitter  grief  to  do  this  for  one  whose  past 
performance,  admirable  in  itself,  was  less  great  than 
his  future  promise,  and  on  whom  men  looked  as  yet 
with  expectant,  rather  than  with  grateful  eye.  Eng- 
land was  not  prepared  to  lose  Arnold ;  and  finds  it 
hard  to  accept  his  final  image  from  his  biographer, 
in  place  of  much  fruitful  work  from  himself.  Under 
the  pressure  of  occupations  that  would  exhaust  the 
energy  of  ordinary  men,  he  had  not  only  meditated, 
but  in  part  achieved,  a  system  of  designs  by  which 
the  historical,  philosophical,  and  Christian  literature 
of  his  country  would  have  been  permanently  en- 
riched, and  the  spirit  of  its  social  life  sensibly  ele- 

*  The  Life  and  Correspondence  of  Thomas  Arnold,  D.  D.,  late  Head 
Master  of  Rugby  School,  and  Regius  Professor  of  Modern  History  in 
the  University  of  Oxford.  By  Arthur  Penrhyn  Stanley,  M.  A.,  Fellow 
and  Tutor  of  University  College,  Oxford.  In  two  Volumes.  Fellowes. 
1844. 


DR.    ARNOLD.  »          57 

vated.  Just  as  he  was  raised  into  a  position  prom- 
ising to  render  his  industry  and  enthusiasm  most 
rapidly  productive,  he  has  vanished  from  our  hopes ; 
and  instead  of  those  priceless  stores  of  uncommuni- 
cated  wisdom,  the  leaves  casually  scattered  from  his 
table  are  gathered  together,  and  presented  as  his  last 
memorial.  In  the  midst  of  the  third  act  the  curtain 
has  suddenly  dropped ;  and  rises  only  to  show  us  the 
noble  form,  lately  kindling  with  humane  and  earnest 
speech,  now  stretched  in  the  silence  of  death. 

Happily,  however,  it  is  only  in  the  case  of  ordinary 
men  that  the  value  of  a  life  can  be  measured  by  its 
quantity.  The  almost  infinite  worth  to  us  of  such  a 
mind  as  Arnold's  depends  upon  its  quality;  and  if  it 
only  remains  and  toils  in  our  midst  long  enough  to 
show  us  the  spirit  and  manner  of  its  work,  its  high- 
est function  is  performed.  Let  the  deep  game  of 
life  be  played  with  a  divine  skill,  and  we  must  not 
complain  though  the  calculable  stake  which  is  won 
in  our  behalf  be  only  nominal.  However  great  the 
loss  of  Arnold's  Roman  History,  it  is  as  nothing  to 
the  wealth  he  leaves  us  in  this  Biography.  From 
what  a  good  man  does  there  is  no  higher  lesson  to 
be  learned  than  what  he  is ;  his  workmanship  inter- 
ests and  profits  us  as  an  expression  of  himself,  and 
would  become  dead  and  indifferent  to  us,  if,  instead 
of  being  a  human  creation,  it  were  the  product  of 
some  mechanical  necessity.  That  Arnold  has  lived, 
and  shown  how  much  nobleness  and  strength  may 
maintain  itself  in  an  age  of  falsehood,  negligence, 
and  pretence,  —  with  this  let  us  rest  and  be  thank- 
ful. 


58  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

The  work  before  us  is  essentially  an  autobiogra- 
phy. The  letters,  which  form  its  chief  portion,  ex- 
tend from  the  year  1817  to  1842 :  and  they  present 
so  vivid  and  complete  an  impression  of  the  writer 
throughout  the  changes  of  his  career,  and  the  ripen- 
ing of  his  character,  that  little  occasion  remained  for 
their  editor  to  appear  as  an  original  biographer.  He 
has  had  the  rare  modesty  and  merit  to  perceive  this ; 
and  in  the  chapters  of  his  own,  by  which  we  are  in- 
troduced to  the  several  periods  of  the  correspond- 
ence, every  thing  is  kept  in  strict  subordination  to 
the  legitimate  purpose  of  the  book:  he  evidently 
had  no  desire  but  to  make  us  know  the  subject  of 
his  Memoirs ;  and  the  affectionate  singleness  of  his 
aim  was  itself  an  adequate  security  for  tact  and  suc- 
cess in  its  accomplishment.  There  are  indeed  traces 
of  abstinence  and  self-restraint  in  the  treatment  of 
his  materials,  for  which  we  honor  him.  Nothing 
would  have  been  easier  than  to  have  created  private 
heart-burnings  and  sectarian  animosities  by  the  indis- 
creet use  of  such  letters  as  Arnold's  ;  —  letters  full  of 
reference  to  every  controversy  of  the  day,  and  passing 
the  freest  judgment  on  most  of  the  conspicuous 
actors  in  Church  or  State.  Mr.  Stanley's  good  taste 
has  conducted  him  wisely  through  a  very  delicate 
task.  If  we  were  disposed  to  find  any  fault  with  its 
execution,  we  should  complain  that  he  has  not  told 
us  more  of  the  personal  habits  and  minuter  traits 
which  so  materially  help  us  to  conceive  the  physi- 
ognomy of  a  character.  The  few  things  of  this 
kind  which  he  has  given  us  constitute  most  delight- 
ful elements  in  our  image  of  Arnold ;  —  his  sofa  full 


DR.    ARNOLD.  59 

of  books,  his  boyish  play,  his  daily  walk  beside  the 
pony,  his  mountaineering  rambles ;  and  we  would 
fain  have  known  his  time  of  rising  and  of  rest,  the 
distribution  of  his  hours,  his  method  of  study  and 
composition,  his  love  or  disregard  of  external  order, 
and  such  other  trivial  particulars  as  might  complete 
the  lineaments  of  his  familiar  life.  Details  of  this 
kind,  always  full  of  expressiveness,  are  especially 
needed  in  a  Life,  the  interest  of  which  is  that  of 
portraiture,  not  of  history.  There  is  an  entire  ab- 
sence from  this  biography  of  all  outward  incident 
and  adventure.  Even  the  ordinary  struggles  are 
wanting,  through  which  men  of  thought  and  ca- 
pacity, wrestling  with  poverty,  or  restrained  by  the 
singularities  of  their  own  genius,  finally  establish 
themselves  in  a  professional  career.  There  is  not  a 
single  passage  of  suffering,  —  not  a- momentary  crisis 
of  difficulty,  —  nothing  like  a  dramatic  attitude  of 
events,  from  the  opening  to  the  close.  Arnold's  way 
was  quietly  opened  before  him  from  year  to  year, 
and  he  had  only  to  occupy  the  successive  positions 
into  which  the  most  commonplace  external  causes 
threw  him.  At  no  time  was  it  his  task  to  choose  a 
lot,  with  the  world  before  him ;  but,  what  is  more 
difficult,  to  travel  on  a  routine  path,  without  con- 
tracting the  routine  spirit,  to  keep  the  high-road  of 
life,  unsoiled  by  its  dust,  unexhausted  by  its  heat, 
and  pressing  on  to  the  last  with  all  the  freshness  of 
an  explorer.  He  was  one  who  could  be  a  hero  with- 
out romance.  To  him  "  the  narrow  way  that  lead- 
eth  unto  life  "  was  no  mountain  by-path  of  exist- 
ence, but  just  the  personal  track  each  faithful  pilgrim 


CO  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

may  pursue  (though  few,  alas !  there  be  that  find  it) 
on  the  same  "  broad  road  "  by  which  many  pass  to 
their  destruction. 

It  has  been  remarked,  that  a  large  proportion  of 
the  men  who  have  obtained  distinction  in  the  world 
have  been  the  last  members  of  a  large,  or,  as  the 
Irish  expressively  term  it,  a  long  family.  Among 
the  English  aristocracy  this  is  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  the  law  of  primogeniture,  and  the  prac- 
tices connected  with  it,  which  throw  the  younger 
sons  into  professions  requiring,  for  their  successful 
exercise,  a  healthy  culture  of  personal  qualities.  In 
the  middle  class  it  must  arise  from  the  less  anxious 
and  elaborate  care,  the  freer  hand  usually  applied  by 
parents  to  their  latest  than  to  their  earliest  charge. 
There  is  thus  a  larger  proportion  of  self-formation 
in  the  character,  and  the  natural  forces  of  the  mind, 
exempt  from  the  repression  of  system,  display  them- 
selves, with  less  perhaps  of  the  harmony  that  con- 
stitutes personal  well-being,  but  with  more  of  the 
strength  which  makes  them  effective  on  society. 
Arnold,  the  seventh  child  in  a  family  early  orphaned, 
was  no  exception  to  this  rule.  From  childhood  his 
mind  seems  to  have  been  directed,  rather  than  con- 
strained ;  and,  even  during  the  eight  years  spent  at 
Warminster  and  Winchester  schools,  to  have  indi- 
cated that  eager  and  exclusive  interest  in  every  thing 
human,  which  at  once  disqualified  him  for  eminence 
in  Philology,  in  Science,  in  Metaphysics,  and  consti- 
tuted his  greatness  as  an  Historian,  a  Politician,  and 
a  Divine.  Ballad  poetry,  dramatic  representation, 
history,  and  geography,  every  thing  which  brought 


DR.     ARNOLD.  61 

before  his  conception  life  and  its  scenery,  had  irre- 
sistible attractions  even  for  his  boyhood.  With 
what  remarkable  tact  this  sympathy  enabled  him  to 
detect  what  was  untrue  to  nature  in  the  legends  of 
nations,  is  manifest  from  the  following  sentence, 
written  when  he  was  fourteen  years  old :  —  "I  verily 
believe,  that  half  at  least  of  the  Roman  history  is, 
if  not  totally  false,  at  least  scandalously  exagger- 
ated :  how  far  different  are  the  modest,  unaffected, 
and  impartial  narrations  of  Herodotus,  Thucydides, 
and  Xenophon."  (Vol.  I.  p.  5.) 

His  studies  at  Oxford  tended  to  confirm  his  Real- 
ism of  character.  The  neglect  prevailing  there  of 
all  formal  science,  with  exception  of  the  Deductive 
Logic,  and  the  ascendant  influence  of  Aristotle 
among  the  great  masters  of  thought,  and  Thucyd- 
ides among  the  models  of  history,  combined  with 
the  vehement  state  controversies  of  the  day,  and  the 
exciting  progress  of  the  Peninsular  war,  to  engage 
his  enthusiasm  with  practical  questions  of  society 
and  government,  and  to  strengthen  his  inaptitude  for 
poetical  or  speculative  thought.  In  the  private 
friendships,  indeed,  which  he  formed  in  the  little  circle 
of  Corpus  Christi,  there  was  much  to  counteract  the 
objective  and  prosaic  cast  of  his  character ;  his  love 
especially  for  Keble  and  Mr.  (now  Justice)  Coleridge, 
brought  him  under  the  influence  of  two  minds,  both 
of  great  richness,  whose  highest  qualities  formed  the 
complement  to  his  own.  The  first  reverence  with 
which  an  affectionate  spirit  looks  up  to  one  who  is 
strong  where  it  is  weak,  and  light  where  it  is  dark, 
is  often  the  birth-hour  of  its  deep  religious  life :  the 
6 


62  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

throbbing  vital  action  in  which  the  soul  opens  its 
chrysalis  of  sleepy  and  stationary  habit,  and  assumes 
its  free  and  winged  state,  amid  the  sunshine  and  the 
air  of  heaven.  So  it  seems  to  us  to  have  been  with 
Arnold.  His  understanding  was  too  robust,  and  his 
moral  affections  too  decided,  to  be  turned  from  their 
natural  direction  by  any  external  agency;  but  his 
college  attachments  mingled  an  element  of  humility 
and  devotion  with  a  mental  activity  else  too  hardy 
and  dogmatical ;  gave  him  the  feeling  of  a  sphere  of 
truth  and  beauty  different  from  his  own ;  and  habitu- 
ated his  mind  to  that  upward  look  of  trust  and  won- 
der, which  is  not  indeed  piety  itself,  but  is  as  truly 
its  genuine  antecedent,  as  the  raised  hat  and  sub- 
dued footfall  on  entering  a  church  are  the  natural 
prelude  to  the  hour  of  prayer  and  aspiration.  The 
influence  of  these  associates,  however,  though  touch- 
ingly  referred  to  in  later  years,  was  imperfectly  ac- 
knowledged at  the  time;  the  external  form  of  his 
opinions  and  the  habits  of  his  intellect  seemed  to  be 
engaged  in  constantly  withstanding  it.  He  was 
characterized  by  a  vehement,  and  even  disputatious 
independence ;  he  apparently  adhered  to  his  utilita- 
rian, rather  than  esthetic  estimate  of  the  studies 
and  attainments  of  the  place ;  insensible  to  the 
beauty  of  the  Greek  drama,  which  was  too  much  a 
beauty  of  form  to  please  a  perception  fond  of  the 
depth  of  human  coloring,  and  slighting  refined  and 
fastidious  scholarship,  on  the  plea  of  preferring  the 
study  of  things  to  that  of  words.  Yet  he  entered 
his  college  a  Jacobin,  and  quitted  it  a  high  Tory : 
he  became  a  convert  to  the  rigorous  discipline  by 


DR.    ARNOLD.  63 

which  a  taste  for  philological  niceties  is  formed ;  he 
permitted  his  theological  doubts  to  be  overawed  and 
stifled  by  the  remonstrance  which  Mr.  Keble  ad- 
dressed, not  to  his  reason,  but  to  his  fears  and  his 
affections ;  and  in  other  ways  gave  symptoms  of 
being  now,  for  the  first  time,  subdued  into  an  appre- 
hension of  a  wisdom  not  his  own,  and  led  by  the 
power  of  an  unconscious  deference.  Indeed,  with 
some  apparent  dogmatism,  Arnold  appears  from  this 
time  to  have  been  exceedingly  susceptible  of  influ- 
ence from  any  man  "  rich  in  the  combined  and  indi- 
visible love  of  truth  and  goodness."  No  sooner  did 
he  exchange  the  society  of  Corpus  Christi  for  that 
of  Oriel,  on  his  election  to  his  fellowship,  than  a 
fresh  series  of  changes  became  apparent  in  his  views : 
in  the  presence  of  Davison,  Copplestone,  Whately, 
he  felt  the  irresistible  action  of  a  new  intellectual 
climate ;  and  the  seeds  of  all  his  characteristic  be- 
liefs, productive  afterwards  of  fruit  so  wholesome, 
rapidly  germinated  and  struck  root.  His  abhorrence 
of  sacerdotal  religion,  his  conception  of  a  Christian 
TroXiTfi'a,  his  appreciation  of  the  origin  in  human  na- 
ture, and  dangers  in  human  society,  of  Conservation 
on  the  one  hand  and  .Jacobinism  on  the  other,  all 
date  from  the  time  of  his  connection  with  Oriel : 
and  much  of  the  character  of  his  future  works  is, 
perhaps,  referable  to  the  fact,  that  their  materials 
were  mainly  collected  during  this  period,  and  were 
results  of  his  reading  in  the  Oxford  libraries,  whilst 
he  was  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  fellowship.  Even 
where  his  subsequent  opinions  deviated  from  the 
standard  of  the  Oriel  school  of  liberal  divines,  we 


64  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

may  trace  the  operation  of  a  new  influence ;  his 
veneration  for  Niebuhr  and  Bunsen  completing  the 
elevation  of  that  structure  of  conviction  of  which 
the  ground-plan  had  been  traced  in  intimacy  with 
Whately ;  and  imparting  an  historic  richness  and 
Gothic  sanctity  to  a  system  of  thought  having  its 
foundations  in  philosophy.  To  this  succession  of 
admirations  and  their  powerful  but  healthful  agency 
upon  him,  he  beautifully  alludes  in  a  letter  to  Mr. 
Justice  Coleridge,  apparently  justifying  himself  from 
the  charge  of  a  presumptuous  mental  independence. 
The  date  is  January  26th,  1840. 

"  Your  letter  interested  me  very  deeply,  and  I  have 
thought  over  what  you  say  very  often.  Yet  I  believe  that 
no  man's  mind  has  ever  been  more  consciously  influenced 
by  others  than  mine  has  been  in  the  course  of  my  life, 
from  the  time  that  I  first  met  you  at  Corpus.  I  doubt 
whether  you  ever  submitted  to  another  with  the  same  com- 
plete deference  as  I  did  to  you  when  I  was  an  undergradu- 
ate. So,  afterwards,  I  looked  up  to  Davison  with  exceed- 
ing reverence,  —  and  to  Whately.  Nor  do  I  think  that 
Keble  himself  has  lived  on  in  more  habitual  respect  and 
admiration  than  I  have,  only  the  objects  of  these  feelings 
have  been  very  different.  At  this  day  I  could  sit  at  Bun- 
sen's  feet  and  drink  in  wisdom  with  almost  intense  rever- 
ence. But  I  cannot  reverence  the  men  that  Keble  rever- 
ences, and  how  does  he  feel  to  Luther  and  Milton  ?  It 
gives  me  no  pain  and  no  scruple  whatever  to  differ  from 
those  whom,  after  the  most  deliberate  judgment  that  I  can 
form,  I  cannot  find  to  be  worthy  of  admiration.  Nor  does 
their  number  affect  me,  when  all  are  manifestly  under  the 
same  influences,  and  no  one  seems  to  be  a  master-spirit, 
fitted  to  lead  amongst  men.  But  with  wise  men  in  the  way 


DR.    ARNOLD.  65 

of  their  wisdom,  it  would  give  me  very  great  pain  to  differ ; 
I  can  say  that  truly  with  regard  to  your  uncle,  even  more 

with  regard  to  Niebuhr 

"  I  was  brought  up  in  a  strong  Tory  family  ;  the  first 
impressions  of  my  own  mind  shook  my  merely  received 
impressions  to  pieces,  and  at  Winchester  I  was  wellnigh  a 
Jacobin.  At  sixteen,  when  I  went  up  to  Oxford,  all  the  in- 
fluences of  the  place  which  I  loved  exceedingly,  your  influ- 
ence above  all,  blew  my  Jacobinism  to  pieces,  and  made  me 
again  a  Tory.  I  used  to  speak  strong  Toryism  to  the  old 
Attic  Society,  and  greedily  did  I  read  Clarendon  with  all 
the  sympathy  of  a  thorough  royalist.  Then  came  the 
Peace,  when  Napoleon  was  put  down,  and  the  Tories  had  it 
their  own  way.  Nothing  shook  my  Toryism  more  than  the 

strong  Tory  sentiments  that  I  used  to  hear  at ,  though 

I  liked  the  family  exceedingly.  But  1  heard  language  at 
which  my  organ  of  justice  stood  aghast,  and  which,  the 
more  I  read  of  the  Bible,  seemed  to  me  more  and  more  un- 
christian. I  could  not  but  go  on  inquiring,  and  I  do  feel 
thankful  that  now  for  some  years  past  I  have  been  living, 
not  in  scepticism,  but  in  a  very  sincere  faith  which  embraces 
most  unreservedly  those  great  truths,  divine  and  human, 
which  the  highest  authorities,  divine  and  human,  seem  con- 
curringly  to  teach."  —  Vol.  II.  p.  190. 

There  is  one  instance  in  which  this  openness  to 
persuasion  through  his  affections  appears  to  us  to 
have  impaired  the  simplicity  and  clearness  of  Ar- 
nold's conscience.  We  say  this  with  absolute  sor- 
row of  a  man  whose  memory  we  love  with  devotion 
almost  unreserved.  We  say  it  with  self-distrust, 
because  conscious  that,  in  bringing  a  charge  of  doc- 
trinal partiality,  we  may  not  ourselves  be  sufficiently 
without  sin  to  cast  the  first  stone.  Still,  we  cannot 
6* 


66  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

satisfy  ourselves  that  Arnold  got  rid  of  his  doubts 
about  the  Trinity  by  fair  means :  and  in  the  advice 
given  to  him  on  the  subject,  we  see  so  much  of  the 
mischievous  sophistry  and  dishonest  morality  cur- 
rent on  these  matters  among  divines,  that  we  feel 
bound  to  enter  our  protest  as  we  pass.  When  he 
was  about  to  resign  his  fellowship  and  take  orders, 
previous  to  his  marriage,  he  found  his  course  em- 
barrassed by  doubts  as  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 
With  the  moral  clearness  and  simplicity  which  inva- 
riably distinguished  his  natural  judgments,  he  was 
willing  to  accept  the  doubt  as  a  voice  of  God,  and 
make  a  reverent  pause  in  his  career,  while  he  listened 
to  it,  and  pondered  its  intimations.  But  he  was  sur- 
rounded by  associates  who  were  incapable  of  appre- 
ciating such  a  state  of  mind,  —  who  lifted  their 
hands  in  pious  horror  at  his  perplexity,  and  treated 
it  as  the  first  coil  of  the  old  serpent  lurking,  as  of 
old,  in  the  path  of  a  guilty  curiosity.  How  little 
sympathy,  and  how  much  misdirection,  he  met  with 
at  this  trying  crisis  of  his  life,  will  be  apparent  from 
the  following  passage  of  a  letter,  addressed  (-evi- 
dently by  Keble)  to  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge,  February 
14th,  1819:  — 

"  I  have  not  talked  with  Arnold  lately  on  the  distressing 
thoughts  which  he  wrote  to  you  about,  but  I  am  fearful, 
from  his  manner  at  times,  that  he  has  by  no  means  got  rid 
of  them,  though  I  feel  quite  confident  that  all  will  be  well 
in  the  end.  The  subject  of  them  is  that  most  awful  one, 
on  which  all  very  inquisitive,  reasoning  minds  are,  I  believe, 
most  liable  to  such  temptations,  —  I  mean  the  doctrine  of 
the  blessed  Trinity.  Do  not  start,  my  dear  Coleridge  :  I  do 


DR.    ARNOLD.  67 

not  believe  that  Arnold  has  serious  scruples  of  the  under- 
standing about  it,  but  it  is  a  defect  of  his  mind,  that  he 
cannot  get  rid  of  a  certain  feeling  of  objections,  —  and  par- 
ticularly when,  as  he  fancies,  the  bias  is  so  strong  upon  him 
to  decide  one  way  from  interest :  he  scruples  doing  what  I 
advise  him,  which  is,  to  put  down  the  objections  by  main 
force,  whenever  they  arise  in  his  mind,  fearful  that  in  so 
doing  he  shall  be  violating  his  conscience  for  a  mainte- 
nance' sake.  I  am  still  inclined  to  think  with  you,  that  the 
wisest  thing  he  could  do  would  be  to  take  John  M.  (a 
young  pupil  whom  I  was  desirous  of  placing  under  his 
care)  and  a  curacy  somewhere  or  other,  and  cure  himself, 
not  by  physic,  i.  e.  reading  and  controversy,  but  by  diet  and 
regimen,  i.  e.  holy  living."  —  Vol.  I.  p.  21. 

The  sacerdotal  sophistry  of  this  letter  is  so  com- 
plete and  characteristic,  that  the  subsequent  career 
of  the  writer  seems  to  be  almost  prefigured  in  it. 
To  quench  by  the  "  main  force "  of  an  idolatrous 
reverence  the  truthful  aspirations  of  a  holy  spirit, 
and  suppress  the  starts  of  a  waking  conscience  by 
the  hideous  nightmare  of  church  power,  is  the  grand 
aim  of  the  school  to  which  he  belongs ;  and  the  per- 
verseness  with  which  he  here  designates  the  purest 
sincerity  as  "  a  defect  of  Arnold's  mind,"  counsels  a 
sceptical  man  to  "  take  a  curacy  "  in  order  to  believe 
the  doctrines  he  is  to  teach,  and  calls  the  dishonest 
stifling  of  thought  in  action  "  holy  living,"  is  singu- 
larly symptomatic  of  the  moral  blindness  to  which 
superstition  inevitably  tends.  We  are  far  from  de- 
nying that  there  are  cases  of  embarrassed  thought, 
in  which  the  advice  here  given  would  be  the  best, 
and  the  only  cure  must  be  sought  in  active  duty, 


68  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

not  in  lonely  meditation.  We  admit  the  error  of 
treating  all  sorts  of  doubt  indiscriminately  as  mere 
affairs  of  the  intellect,  determinable  by  pure  reason- 
ing, and  equally  possible  to  every  condition  of  the 
character  and  will.  Unquestionably,  the  effect  upon 
a  man  of  what  is  called  "  evidence  "  depends,  in  sub- 
jects of  a  moral  nature,  not  less  upon  the  suscepti- 
bility of  his  conscience  and  affections,  than  on  the 
acuteness  of  his  understanding:  and  any  one  who 
forbids  us  ever  to  judge  others  by  their  belief,  and 
requires  from  us  an  equal  sympathy  for  all  states  of 
mind  consistent  with  good  conduct,  is  deluded  by 
the  cant  of  a  philosophy  which  he  himself  neither 
does  nor  can  reduce  to  practice.  There  is  no  more 
full  and  direct  expression  of  a  man's  whole  mind 
than  the  faith  by  which  he  lives ;  and  by  this,  bet- 
ter than  by  any  single  symptom,  do  we  know  one 
another,  and  keep  apart  in  strangeness,  or  draw  to- 
gether in  love.  But  there  is  a  distinction  to  be 
drawn  between  spiritual  and  simply  historical  relig- 
ion, —  and  between  doubts  arising  from  spiritual  ob- 
tuseness,  and  those  which  are  due  to  want  of  his- 
torical light.  Religion,  we  conceive,  like  morals  and 
physics,  has  first  truths,  which  are  incapable  of  being 
derived  from  any  thing  more  certain  than  themselves, 
—  which  the  human  mind,  at  a  particular  point  of 
its  development,  invariably  recognizes,  and  the  in- 
tuition of  which  is  a  direct  result  of  the  activity  of 
its  highest  faculties.  As  no  one  without  senses  could 
ascertain  the  reality  of  matter,  or  without  self-con- 
sciousness become  aware  of  the  existence  of  mind, 
so  no  one  without  moral  perceptions  and  desires 


DR.    ARNOLD.  69 

could  learn  the  being  or  feel  the  presence  of  a  God. 
Believing  the  knowledge  of  him  to  be  in  direct  "pro- 
portion, not  to  the  sharpness  of  the  intellect,  but  to 
the  purity,  depth,  and  earnestness  of  the  heart,  we 
can  understand  why  a  moral  remedy,  rather  than  a 
speculative  discipline,  should  be  prescribed  for  the 
genuine  atheist,  and  he  should  be  desired  to  do  the 
Will  ere  he  deny  the  Agency  of  God.  With  one 
who  questions  a  first  truth,  you  can  do  nothing  but 
improve  his  mental  aptitude  for  apprehending  it. 
But  who  can  affirm  that  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity 
stands  in  this  predicament  ?  Who  can  say  that 
there  is  any  condition  of  the  character  to  which  it 
becomes  self-evident  ?  —  that  the  numerical  analysis 
of  Deity  is  "  experimentally "  revealed  through  the 
moral  dispositions  ?  The  doctrine,  as  its  supporters 
are  the  most  eager  to  aver,  is  wholly  the  result  of 
external  testimony,  and  on  the  right  reading  of  that 
testimony  depends  its  truth  or  falsehood.  If  it  be 
said  that  an  indisposition  to  receive  it  may  arise 
from  a  mean  repugnance  to  any  thing  wonderful 
and  great,  and  a  propensity  to  make  every  thing 
comprehensible,  that  we  may  have  the  less  that  is 
adorable,  even  this,  which  in  other  cases  is  a  mis- 
representation, is  in  Arnold's  instance  inapplicable : 
for  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge  expressly  assures  us,  that 
his  doubts  "  were  not  low  nor  rationalistic  in  their 
tendency,  according  to  the  bad  sense  of  that  term : 
there  was  no  indisposition  in  him  to  believe  merely 
because  the  article  transcended  his  reason ;  he  doubt- 
ed the  proof  and  the  interpretation  of  the  textual 
authority."  (Vol.  I.  p.  20.) 


70  MARTINEAU'S  MISCELLANIES. 

How  could  doubts  like  these,  not  arising  from  de- 
ficient idealism  and  love,  having  confessedly  no 
"wilful"  origin,  be  justly  treated  as  wicked  "temp- 
tations," and  legitimately  resisted  by  prayer  and 
practice?  Can  a  change  in  the  moral  state  settle 
a  question  of  disputed  interpretation  ?  Will  active 
life  improve  the  exegetic  skill?  Will  a  batch  of 
hard  work  enable  a  man  to  punctuate  Timothy,  ex- 
plain apTray/ta,  and  penetrate  the  true  meaning  of  the 
Paraclete  ?  Can  parish  duty  remove  obscurity  from 
the  proem  of  John  ?  and  a  curacy  demonstrate  the 
Athanasian  Creed  ?  What  can  be  more  evident  than 
that  the  advice  given  to  Arnold  was  good  for  stifling 
the  doubt,  bad  for  reaching  the  truth  ?  It  is  as  if 
Mr.  Justice  Coleridge  were  to  decide  a  question  of 
law  by  shutting  his  ears  (per  "  main  force  ")  against 
one  half  the  pleadings,  nightly  remembering  the 
others  in  his  prayers,  refusing  to  consult  his  books  of 
precedents,  and  submitting  the  matter  to  the  ordeal 
of  a  brisk  walk.  Unhappily,  the  solemn  sophistry, 
recommended  by  the  entreaties  of  friendship,  and 
decorated  with  the  phrases  of  academical  devotion, 
appears  to  have  imposed  upon  Arnold.  Mr.  Justice 
Coleridge  refers  "  the  conclusion  of  these  doubts  "  to 
a  later  period  of  his  life,  "  when  his  mind  had  not 
become  weaker,  nor  his  pursuit  of  truth  less  honest 
or  ardent,  but  when  his  abilities  were  matured,  his 
knowledge  greater,  his  judgment  more  sober."  We 
know  not  how  to  avoid  the  obvious  inference  from 
this  statement,  that  Arnold's  doubts  did  not  vanish 
till  long  after  he  had  assumed  the  clerical  office  ;  that 
he  was  ordained  in  the  midst  of  them;  that  he 


DR.   ARNOLD.  71 

signed  the  Articles  first,  and  believed  them  after- 
wards. This  indeed  is  painfully  evident  from  the  date 
of  Mr.  Keble's  letter  descriptive  of  his  state  of  mind  ; 
for  at  the  time  when  it  was  written,  he  had  already 
been  in  holy  orders  for  two  months,  having  received 
ordination  in  December,  1818.  Are  we  not  justi- 
fied in  saying,  that  he  admitted  the  influence  of 
others  to  have  an  improper  suffrage  in  matters  where 
his  own  conscience  would  have  been  the  better 
guide  ?  What  sort  of  "  holy  living  "  must  that  be, 
which,  as  advised  by  the  saintliest  of  his  friends, 
could  be  entered  only  through  an  inauguration  of 
falsehood  and  pretence?  And  when  disingenuous- 
ness  like  this  can  be  advised  by  Keble,  practised  by 
Arnold,  applauded  by  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge,  and 
tacitly  approved  by  Mr.  Stanley,  what  must  we 
surmise  as  to  the  morality  of  opinion  within  the 
Church,  and  what  value  can  be  attached  to  the  ap- 
parent testimony  of  its  learning  and  its  worth  to 
the  doctrines  it  upholds  with  so  proud  a  dignity  ? 

Questionable  practice  is  the  natural  source  of 
sophistical  theory  :  and  it  is  not  wonderful  that  this 
one  weak  point  in  Arnold's  life  should  entail  a  cor- 
responding unsoundness  in  his  notions  of  subscrip- 
tion to  articles  of  faith.  Of  this  act  he  defended 
the  lax  construction  by  which  alone  he  could  have 
found  admission  into  the  Church  ;  a  construction  so 
lax,  that  his  apology  for  it  fills  us  with  astonishment 
and  shame.  His  doctrine  and  example  on  this  point, 
recommended  by  his  general  simplicity  and  integrity, 
are  likely  to  be  widely  injurious ;  and,  thrown  into 
the  balance  against  wavering  principle,  have  already, 


72  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

we  have  reason  to  believe,  determined  many  a  youth 
to  an  evasive  conformity.  If  the  question  could  be 
submitted  to  the  simple,  veracious  perceptions  of  a 
child,  whether  a  man  may  not  declare  his  belief 
in  some  things  which  he  disbelieves,  there  would 
be  no  fear ;  the  very  question  would  be  seen  to  be 
immoral,  and  one  on  which  no  argument  could  even 
be  innocently  heard.  If  it  were  submitted  only  to 
men  of  strong  sense  and  intellect  wholly  unsub- 
orned,  there  would  be  no  fear;  they  would  see 
straight  through  the  hollow  ingenuities  interposed  to 
color  and  distort  the  truth.  But  there  are  weak, 
bewildered  minds,  to  whom  a  pleasant  fallacy  comes 
with  all  the  force  of  conviction ;  uneasy  from  the 
wish  to  serve  two  masters ;  too  scrupulous  to  make 
a  deceitful  profession,  but  ready  to  hear  evidence  in 
favor  of  its  honesty ;  shrinking  from  the  positive  ap- 
proaches of  falsehood,  yet  looking  after  it  with  lust 
of  the  eye ;  and  these  half-souls  are  they  for  whom 
Arnold's  guidance  in  this  matter  is  dangerous. 
With  the  perverseness  of  those  who  search  the  les- 
sons of  life  for  justification  of  their  weakness,  rather 
than  for  the  ennobling  of  their  strength,  they  will 
appropriate  the  one  only  dishonest  comfort  that  can 
be  gathered  from  a  good  man's  history;  flattering 
themselves  that  they  are  wiser  by  his  wisdom,  and 
holier  by  his  faithfulness,  they  will  be  but  partners 
in  his  infirmity,  and  victims  of  his  mistake. 

Arnold's  practical  morality  on  the  matter  of  sub- 
scription and  confession  appears  from  the  following 
sentences :  — 

"  I  do  not  believe  the  damnatory  clauses  in  the  Athana- 


DR.    ARNOLD.  73 

sian  Creed,  under  any  qualification  given  of  them,  except 
such  as  substitute  for  them  propositions  of  a  wholly  different 

character But  I  read  the  Athanasian  Creed,  and 

have  and  would  again  subscribe  the  Article   about  it."  — 
Vol.  II.  p.  120. 

It  is  to  be  presumed  that,  in  reading  the  Creed, 
Dr.  Arnold  did  not  omit  the  "  damnatory  clauses." 
Then  he  publicly  pronounced  a  most  solemn  anath- 
ema of  which  he  did  not  believe  a  word !  He  as- 
serted a  thing  to  be  "  above  all  things  necessary  to 
salvation,"  which  he  did  not  suppose  to  be  necessary 
at  all !  He  warned  many  a  hearer  that  "  without 
doubt  he  should  perish  everlastingly,"  apprehending 
all  the  while  no  danger  whatsoever !  Nothing  surely 
but  the  terrible  paralysis  of  custom  could  deaden  a 
man's  sense  of  the  guilt  of  so  great  a  mockery. 
Were  he  to  hurry  through  his  task  lest  he  should  be 
struck  dumb  in  the  midst,  we  should  scarcely  think 
it  an  unnatural  superstition.  Apart  from  all  ques- 
tion as  to  the  engagements  made  at  his  ordination, 
it  is  a  shocking  Jesuitry  to  maintain  that  a  cler- 
gyman—  instructor  of  the  people's  conscience  and 
messenger  of  their  prayers  —  need  not  assent  to  the 
promise  or  the  curse  he  utters  in  the  hour  of  wor- 
ship, and  may  innocently  invite  his  hearers  to  stand 
up  with  him  before  God,  and  take  lying  judgments 
upon  their  lips. 

And  what  is  the  plea  put  forth  to  blunt  the  edge 
of  our  natural  indignation  at  such  laxity  ? 

"  I  have  and  would  again  subscribe  the  Article  about  it 
[the  Athanasian  Creed],  because  I  do  not  conceive  the 
clauses  in  question  to  be  essential  parts  of  it I 

7 


74  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

do  not  imagine  that  the  Article  about  the  Creed  was  intend- 
ed in  the  least  to  refer  to  the  clauses."  —  Vol.  II.  pp.  120, 
121. 

Be  it  so :  what  does  this  amount  to  but  the  plea, 
"  I  never  engaged  to  believe  these  falsehoods,  so  why 
should  I  object  to  utter  them  "  ?  Is  insincerity  then 
quite  allowable,  except  where  a  man  has  contracted 
to  avoid  it?  And  are  the  words  of  holy  men  to  be 
no  index  to  their  minds  unless  a  truthful  intent  has 
been  written  in  the  bond?  The  obligation  to  guile- 
less veracity  does  not  arise  from  ordination  promises 
and  doctrinal  subscription,  and  does  not  stop  where 
they  happen  to  terminate.  Take  away  Articles,  sig- 
nature, vows  altogether,  and  it  is  no  less  a  duty  than 
before,  for  a  man  to  say  only  the  thing  he  truly 
means.  His  added  pledge  is  but  a  recognition  of 
the  antecedent  obligation,  an  assurance  to  others 
that  he  owns  the  justice  of  their  moral  expectations, 
and  has  a  sense  of  right  and  fidelity  concurrent  with 
their  own. 

But  let  us  even  accept  Arnold's  mode  of  putting 
the  case,  and  see  whether  Churchmen  such  as  he  can 
be  justified  in  signing  the  eighth  Article,  which  is  as 
follows :  — 

"  The  three  Creeds,  Nice  Creed,  Athanasius's  Creed,  and 
that  which  is  commonly  called  the  Apostle's  Creed,  ought 
thoroughly  to  be  received  and  believed  ;  for  they  may  be 
proved  by  most  certain  warrants  of  Holy  Scripture." 

Arnold  resolves  the  Athanasian  Creed  into  two 
parts;  one  defining  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity;  the 
other  defining  the  Divine  purpose  with  respect  to 


DR.    ARNOLD.  75 

unbelievers  in  it :  the  one  therefore  referring  to  the 
psychological  nature,  the  other  to  the  moral  char- 
acter of  God  ;  the  one  pronouncing  on  the  mysteries 
of  his  Absolute  Essence,  the  other  on  the  principles 
of  his  Relative  conduct  and  sentiments  towards  men. 
Strangely  inverting  the  comparative  importance  of 
these,  Arnold  decides  that  the  incomprehensible 
metaphysics  are  the  essential  part,  —  the  intelligible 
declarations  of  law,  the  non-essential :  and  he  argues, 
"  I  believe  the  former,  I  do  not  believe  the  latter ;  so 
I  may  say  that  I  believe  the  creed  '  thoroughly? " 
And  is  there  the  least  ground,  except  in  the  con- 
venience of  half-believers,  for  this  dismemberment  of 
the  Creed  ?  Not  the  slightest.  The  "  damnatory 
clauses "  are  not  only  inseparably  interwoven  with 
it,  beginning,  middle,  and  end,  but  logically  consti- 
tute the  substantive  affirmation  of  the  whole  docu- 
ment, of  which  the  statement  of  the  "  Catholic 
Faith  "  is  but  a  dependent  and  subordinate  member. 
Perhaps,  however,  there  may  be  historical  reasons 
for  Arnold's  view,  not  apparent  from  the  mere  struc- 
ture of  this  formulary.  Let  us  hear :  — 

"  I  do  not  conceive  the  clauses  in  question  were  retained 
deliberately  by  our  Reformers  after  the  propriety  of  retain- 
ing or  expunging  them  had  been  distinctly  submitted  to  their 
minds.  They  retained  the  Creed,  I  doubt  not,  deliberately  ; 
to  show  that  they  wished  to  keep  the  faith  of  the  general 
Church  in  matters  relating  to  the  Arian,  Macedonian,  Nes- 
torian,  Eutychian,  and  Socinian  controversies  ;  and,  as  they 
did  not  scruple  to  burn  Arians,  so  neither  would  they  be 
likely  to  be  shocked  by  the  damnatory  clauses  against  them  ; 
but  I  do  not  imagine  that  the  Article  about  the  Creed  was 


76  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

intended  in  the  least  to  refer  to  the  clauses,  as  if  they  sup- 
posed that  a  man  might  embrace  the  rest  of  the  Creed,  and 
yet  reject  them.  Nor  do  I  think  that  the  Reformers,  or  the 
best  and  wisest  men  of  the  Church  since,  would  have  ob- 
jected to  any  man's  subscription,  if  they  had  conceived  such 
a  case ;  but  would  have  said,  '  What  we  mean  you  to  em- 
brace is  the  belief  of  the  general  Church,  as  expressed  in 
the  three  Creeds,  with  regard  to  the  points,  many  of  them 
having  been  disputed,  on  which  those  Creeds  pronounce : 
the  degree  of  blamableness  in  those  who  do  not  embrace 
this  belief  is  another  matter,  on  which  we  do  not  intend  to 
speak,  particularly  in  this  Article.'  I  do  not  think  that  there 
is  any  thing  evasive  or  unfair  in  this."  —  Vol.  II.  p.  121. 

A  thoughtful  man  must  assuredly  be  very  hard- 
pressed,  before  he  could  produce  so  extraordinary  an 
argument  as  this.  In  the  times  of  the.  Reformers,  it 
appears,  there  were  two  grades  of  certainty  felt  as 
to  Christian  doctrine.  Some  points  had  been  dis- 
puted, and  were  known  to  be  in  peril  from  the  varia- 
ble movements  of  opinion :  others  had  never  been 
called  in  question,  and  remained  fixed  in  uncon- 
scious security  as  the  faith  of  Christendom.  The 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity  was  among  the  former;  the 
perdition  of  heretics  and  unbelievers  among  the 
latter.  The  Reformers  were  well  acquainted  with 
Arian  and  Socinian  perverseness,  —  and  had  perhaps 
not  been  without  difficulties  on  these  matters  them- 
selves :  but  that  misbelievers  must  be  damned,  is  a 
thing  which  they  never  supposed  that  any  body  could 
doubt.  They  burned  Arians  without  scruple ;  and 
made  sure  that  God  would  burn  them  too.  Upon 
both  these  elements  of  their  belief,  the  questioned 


DR.    ARNOLD.  77 

and  the  unquestioned,  they  have  left  us  their  mind  ; 
what  reception  are  we  to  give  it,  when  we  bind  our- 
selves to  their  formularies  ?  Arnold's  decision  is,  — 
"  We  must  adopt  their  opinions  ;  but  we  may  freely 
throw  away  their  certainties :  what  they  knew  to  be 
mutable,  we  must  not  presume  to  change ;  what  they 
supposed  to  be  immutable,  we  may  alter  as  we 
please."  Is  it  conceivable  that  the  founders  of  the 
Reformed  Churches,  while  binding  their  followers  on 
all  debated  matters,  meant  to  leave  them  free  on  all 
the  questions  which  no  scepticism  had  yet  dared  to 
approach?  True,  they  did  not  contemplate  the  par- 
ticular case  of  half-belief  which  now  arises,  and 
made  no  special  provision  to  meet  it.  But  a  man 
may  abstain  from  taking  security  for  either  of  two 
reasons,  because  he  is  willing  to  make  us  a  present, 
or  because  he  is  assured  we  shall  acknowledge  the 
debt.  Arnold  admits  the  profoundness  and  uncon- 
sciousness of  the  Reformers'  trust,  and  gives  it  as  a 
reason  for  cheating  them  of  their  obedience,  and 
pocketing  a  license  which  they  never  left.  And  he 
thinks  there  is  "  nothing  evasive  or  unfair  in  this  " ! 

In  other  passages  he  defends  the  acceptance  of 
holy  orders  by  men  who  "  cannot  yield  an  active  be- 
lief to  the  words  of  every  part  of  the  Articles  and 
Liturgy  as  true,"  on  the  ground  that,  without  this 
latitude,  "  the  Church  could  by  necessity  receive  into 
the  ministry  only  men  of  dull  minds,  or  dull  con- 
sciences :  of  dull,  nay  almost  of  dishonest  minds,  if 
they  can  persuade  themselves  that  they  actually 
agree  in  every  minute  particular  with  any  great 
number  of  human  propositions;  of  dull  consciences, 
7* 


78  MAKTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

if,  exercising  their  minds  freely,  and  yet  believing 
that  the  Church  requires  the  total  adhesion  of  the 
understanding,  they  still,  for  considerations  of  their 
own  convenience,  enter  into  the  ministry  in  her  des- 
pite." (Vol.  II.  p.  173.) 

The  reasoning  of  this  passage,  if  we  understand 
it,  proceeds  thus :  The  Church  must  have  men  of 
active  minds ;  only  men  of  dull  minds  can  sign  the 
Articles  with  full  belief;  therefore  the  Church  must 
have  men  who  sign  the  Articles  without  full  belief. 
But  these  men  must  also  have  lively  consciences  :  if 
they  take  signature  to  denote  full  belief,  they  must 
have  dull  consciences  to  sign  without  it ;  therefore 
they  should  think  that  signature  does  not  denote  full 
belief.  Unhappily,  however,  this  a  priori  argument 
lands  us  in  conclusions  wholly  at  variance  with  fact. 
The  Church  has  not  left  her  intent  as  to  the  Arti- 
cles and  Liturgy,  and  the  degree  of  assent  demanded 
to  them,  a  matter  of  doubtful  inference.  The  thirty- 
sixth  Canon  orders  that  "  no  person  shall  be  received 
into  the  ministry,"  —  "except  he  shall  first  subscribe 
to  these  three  Articles  following,  in  such  manner  and 
sort  as  we  have  here  appointed." 

1.  The  declaration  of  supremacy,  which  it  is  need- 
less to  cite. 

"2.  That  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  and  of 
ordering  of  Bishops,  Priests,. and  Deacons,  containeth 
in  it  nothing1  contrary  to  the  Word  of  God,  &c. 

"  3.  That  he  alloweth  the  Book  of  Articles  of  Re- 
ligion agreed  upon  by  the  Archbishops,  &c. ;  and 
that  he  acknowledgeth  all  and  every  the  Articles 
therein  contained,  being  in  number  nine-and-thirty, 


DR.    ARNOLD.  79 

besides  the  Ratification,  to  be  agreeable  to  the  Word 
of  God. 

"  To  these  three  Articles,  whosoever  will  subscribe, 
he  shall,  for  the  avoiding  of  all  ambiguities,  subscribe 
in  this  order,  and  form  of  words,  setting  down  both 
his  Christian  and  surname,  viz. :  'I,  N.  N.,  do  will- 
ingly and  ex  animo  subscribe  to  these  three  Arti- 
cles above  mentioned,  and  to  all  things  that  are  con- 
tained in  them.' " 

All  argument  against  the  necessity  of  ex  animo 
subscription  being  set  aside  by  this  Canon,  Dr.  Ar- 
nold has  only  put  it  in  the  power  of  opponents  to 
retort  upon  the  Church  thus:  —  All  clergymen  must 
declare  their  full  assent  to  the  Articles  and  Liturgy  : 
in  doing  this,  they  either  honestly  believe  them 
throughout,  or  they  do  not :  if  they  do,  they  are  men 
of  "  dull  minds " ;  if  they  do  not,  they  are  men  of 
"  dull  consciences " ;  therefore  "  the  Church  can  re- 
ceive into  its  ministry  only  men  of  dull  minds  or 
dull  consciences."  And  is  it  not  undeniable  that,  in 
fact,  the  entrance  into  her  service,  smooth  and  easy 
to  thoughtless  mediocrity  and  worldly  ambition,  is 
beset  by  scruples  and  difficulties,  chiefly  for  men  of 
intellectual  genius  and  moral  earnestness?  A  Beres- 
ford  and  a  Blomfield  glide  in  with  complacent  smiles; 
an  Arnold  passes  with  reluctant  starts,  and  bitter 
conflicts,  and  many  a  pause  of  prayer  and  fear.  They 
carry  with  them  the  undisturbed  consistency  so  easy 
to  minds  without  lofty  aspiration,  and  are  of  no 
dimmer  sight  or  less  graceful  movement  than  before : 
but  he  has  withstood  the  repugnance  of  his  noble 
nature,  and  a  speck  is  thenceforth  fixed  on  his  Intel- 


80  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

It'ctual  clearness,  which,  at  one  part  of  his  course  of 
thought,  compels  him  to  feel  his  way  along  the  con- 
ventional path,  and  restrains  the  free  step  with  which 
elsewhere  he  pursues  "  in  open  vision  "  only  what  is 
great  and  true. 

For  nine  years  after  his  ordination,  Arnold  was 
settled,  as  private  tutor,  at  Laleham,  near  Staines : 
mingling,  with  the  duties  of  his  own  house,  no  slight 
share  of  aid  to  the  curate  of  the  parish,  in  the 
church,  the  workhouse,  and  the  cottage.  The  pe- 
riod was  one  of  little  incident,  but  of  the  deepest 
moment  in  his  internal  history.  It  was  his  initia- 
tion into  the  real  business  of  life,  and  showed  at 
once  the  masterly  hand  with  which  he  was  to  rule 
its  affairs  and  manage  its  responsibilities.  It  was 
the  commencement  of  his  most  sacred  domestic 
ties,  and  bears  traces  of  the  genial  ripening  of  his 
character  beneath  the  warmth  of  new  affections.  It 
witnessed  the  beginning  of  all  his  literary  undertak- 
ings, and  the  completion  of  his  articles  on  Roman 
History  in  the  Encyclopedia  Metropolitana.  It  in- 
troduced him  to  the  knowledge  of  Niebuhr,  whose 
influence  was  thenceforth  to  constitute  so  large  an 
element  in  his  mental  progress.  But  the  great  func- 
tion of  this  time  was  to  establish  the  real  seat  of 
Arnold's  strength ;  it  became  evident  at  once  that  he 
was  at  home,  not  in  the  cloister,  but  in  the  city  and 
the  field :  respectable  in  scholarship,  insensible  to 
art,  undistinguished  in  philosophy,  he  was  great  in 
action.  His  sphere  was  not  large :  but  the  healthy 
vigor  which  he  infused  into  the  whole;  the  moral 
earnestness  which  put  pupils,  household,  almost  the 


DR.    ARNOLD.  81 

village,  under  his  control ;  the  quantity  of  ivork  of 
all  sorts  which  he  got  through  himself,  and  inspired 
others  to  achieve,  indicated  the  remarkable  capacity 
for  government,  which  dictated  his  early  longing  for 
a  statesman's  life.  And,  as  is  usual  in  such  cases, 
the  expansion  of  the  leading  faculty,  instead  of  over- 
whelming, reawakened  all  the  rest:  the  more  he  did, 
the  more  also  he  thought  and  felt ;  reflection  and 
emotion  deepening  and  widening  through  the  mate- 
rials of  an  outward  industry,  which,  he  sometimes 
feared,  would  stifle  them.  Archbishop  Whately 
had  early  pointed  out  the  indications,  in  Arnold's 
fellowship  examination,  of  a  remarkable  faculty  of 
mental  growth.  We  doubt  whether  the  prediction, 
true  as  it  was,  would  have  been  conspicuously  ful- 
filled, if  he  had  remained  within  the  walls  of  a  col- 
lege. In  him,  intellect  and  affection  waited  upon 
the  conscience  and  the  Will ;  and  became  great  and 
rich  and  tender  in  the  divine  hardships  of  duty,  and 
the  strenuous  service  of  God.  During  the  years 
spent  at  Laleham,  especially  the  earlier  ones,  there 
are  many  marks  of  crude,  unmellowed  feeling,  of 
conventional  sentiment,  of  prosaic  and  utilitarian 
estimates  of  human  interests.  The  thoughts  with 
which  he  anticipates  his  married  lot  (Vol.  I.  p.  60) 
are  after  the  most  ordinary  fashion  of  moralizing. 
His  views  in  the  choice  of  a  profession  are  according 
to  the  approved  canons  of  spiritual  prudence;  and 
he  takes  to  the  Church,  not  so  much  inspired  by  the 
high  aims  of  a  holy  calling,  as  from  the  wish  for  an 
asylum  (Vol.  I.  p.  53)  from  moral  danger,  ^  o-^daewy, 
dXX'  da-Kfo-fus  tvfKa.  Even  his  sermons  contain  more 


82  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

profit-and-loss  religion  than  consists  with  the  noble- 
ness of  his  later  Christianity;  as  in  p.  243,  where 
"the  good  which  a  man  may  get  from  acting"  on 
holy  principle  is  made  to  depend  on  its  "lasting  for 
ever,"  instead  of  "  being  over  in  less  than  a  hundred 
years."  And  finally,  his  style  —  that  unerring  expres- 
sion of  a  man's  whole  spiritual  nature  —  was  at  this 
time  rude  and  shapeless,  marked  by  a  certain  business- 
like simplicity  and  directness,  but  destitute  of  the 
force  given  by  the  under-play  of  a  living  enthusiasm 
beneath  the  dry  matter  of  the  composition.  The 
fuel,  however,  of  his  central  being  was  kindled ;  life, 
like  a  glowing  furnace,  rose  to  a  higher  and  higher 
intensity,  and  penetrated  with  a  glorious  heat  even  his 
originally  colder  and  remoter  faculties ;  till  his  whole 
nature  was  fused  into  one  living  mass,  radiating  force 
and  fire  throughout  the  sphere  of  his  activity. 

It  was  not  till  he  assumed  his  office  as  head  mas- 
ter of  Rugby  School,  that  all  the  energy  and  great- 
ness of  his  character  were  fully  brought  out.  The 
fourteen  years  which  he  spent  there,  were  in  all  re- 
spects the  most  memorable  of  his  career ;  showing 
how,  amid  many  discouragements  and  frequent  lone- 
liness in  his  favorite  aims,  he  could  prevail  over  the 
heaviest  tasks  submitted  to  his  hands,  and  the  most 
plausible  sophistries  competing  for  his  mind.  We 
must  dismiss  with  few  words  the  whole  subject  of 
his  School  management.  It  is  admitted  on  all 
hands,  that  he  turned  to  the  best  account  all  the  ele- 
ments of  good  in  the  English  system  of  public 
schools,  and  struggled  manfully  and  with  unexam- 
pled success  against  its  peculiar  evils.  His  general 


DR.    ARNOLD.  83 

theory  of  his  office  may  be  stated  thus  ;  —  the  pe- 
culiar character  of  the  English  gentleman  being  as- 
sumed as  an  historical  datum,  the  aim  of  education 
should  be  to  penetrate  and  pervade  this  with  a  spirit 
of  Christian  self-regulation.  He  was  aware  how 
great  was  the  revolution  implied  in  the  accomplish- 
ment of  this  end ;  that  moral  heroism  must  take  the 
place  of  feudal  independence ;  devout  allegiance,  of 
personal  self-will ;  respect  for  faithful  work,  of  the 
ambition  for  careless  idleness ;  manly  simplicity  and 
earnestness,  of  gentlemanly  poco-curanteism ;  the 
true  shame  for  evil,  of  the  false  shame  for  good ;  that 
contempt  of  pleasure  must  be  added  to  the  contempt 
of  danger  and  of  pain  ;  and  courage  to  defy  corrupt 
fashion  and  opinion,  to  the  hardihood  which  resists 
the  aggressions  of  unjust  authority.  With  numbers 
of  his  scholars  he  doubtless  realized  a  near  approxi- 
mation to  his  aim  ;  with  none,  perhaps,  did  he  wholly 
fail ;  for  he  strongly  marked,  and  rendered  unmis- 
takably felt,  the  evils  with  which  he  was  resolved 
to  contend,  and  by  which  he  would  never  be  baffled. 
There  was  no  hope  that  he  would  ever  connive  at 
any  thing  false  or  wrong;  there  was  no  fear  that  he 
would  overlook  or  desert  any  .faithful  will,  striving 
with  limited  powers  within,  or  the  jeers  of  low  ridi- 
cule without.  There  was  established  an  absolute 
confidence  in  his  truth  and  justice :  every  culprit 
felt  the  shadow  of  his  frown,  every  clear  con- 
science the  assurance  of  his  protection.  His  atten- 
tion was  not  reserved  for  pupils  of  remarkable  at- 
tainments and  brilliant  promise,  who  might  reward 
his  assiduity  by  conferring  distinction  on  their  in- 


84  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

structor.  None  were  so  loved  and  honored  as  those 
who  persisted  in  laborious  effort  without  the  power 
or  talent  to  win  admiration  and  command  success ; 
of  such  a  one  he  said,  "  I  could  stand  before  that 
man,  hat  in  hand"  And  if,  amid  the  host  of  the 
foolish  and  corrupt,  there  appeared  any 

"  Abdiel,  faithful  found 
Among  the  faithless,  faithful  only  he  ; 
Among  innumerable  false,  unmoved, 
Unshaken,  unseduced,  unterrified  "  ; 

he  was  secure  of  Arnold's  exulting  sympathy,  and, 
as  "  he  passed  long  way  through  hostile  scorn," 
might  hear  in  heart  his  voice  of  blessing, 

"  Servant  of  God,  well  done  ;  well  hast  thou  fought 
The  better  fight,  who  single  hast  maintained 
Against  revolted  multitudes  the  cause 
Of  truth." 

The  personal  qualities  of  Arnold  were  eminently 
fitted  to  give  success  to  these  high  aims  and  noble 
sympathies.  Frank,  brave,  guileless,  he  mingled  no 
moroseness  with  his  moral  severity,  no  weakness 
with  his  pity,  no  secrecy  with  his  vigilance.  His 
joyous  and  trustful  nature  had  never  divested  itself 
of  the  best  attributes  of  boyhood,  but  simply  added 
to  them  the  wisdom  and  the  strength  of  manhood. 
His  elastic  spirits,  his  vivacfty  of  expression,  his  love 
of  the  open  air  and  all  athletic  sports,  were  no  incon- 
siderable qualifications  for  obtaining  the  admiration 
of  boys ;  and,  above  all,  he  wholly  lost  sight  of  him- 
self, and  never  gave  occasion  for  even  the  perversest 
spirit  to  suspect  that  his  battle  with  school  evils  was 
a  contest  for  personal  dignity  or  power;  in  his  dom- 


DR.    ARNOLD.  85 

inance  over  wrong,  he  was  himself  but  serving"  the 
right.  But  the  most  vivid  individual  character  could 
not  directly  reach  the  multitude  collected  in  a  public 
school.  In  the  chapel,  indeed,  they  were  all  sub- 
mitted immediately  to  his  most  powerful  influence, 
and  the  constancy  and  fervor  with  which  he  availed 
himself  of  this  means  of  discipline  are  known  to 
all  who  are  familiar  with  his  Rugby  Sermons.  At 
this  moment,  no  poem,  no  biography,  actual  or  pos- 
sible, occurs  to  us,  which  we  had  rather  read,  than 
the  secret  spirit-history  of  that  chapel.  The  many- 
colored  thoughts,  evanescent,  it  may  be,  but  not 
traceless,  of  those  young  hearts  ;  the  dark,  obdurate 
will,  struck  by  a  sudden  flash,  then  closing  sullenly 
again ;  the  light,  unstable  mind,  fluttered  with  mo- 
mentary shame ;  the  first  sense  of  lost  innocence, 
awakening  the  sorrowful  images  of  too  happy  sis- 
ters, and  mother  with  no  reproaches  on  her  face ;  the 
manly  pity  for  a  younger  brother  newly  come,  and 
high  resolves,  were  it  only  for  his  sake;  the  eager 
outlook  into  life,  deep  in  its  early  flush  of  glory ;  the 
opening  awe,  the  thrilling  touch,  of  things  invisible ; 
the  dawning  perception  of  the  divineness  of  Christ, 
and  nearness  of  the  living  God ;  the  tumultuous 
grief  roused  by  the  funeral  bell,  or  the  solemn  won- 
der, as  if  it  swung  in  the  air  of  eternity,  and  made 
the  dead  silence  speak,  —  all  these  primal  stirrings 
of  expanding  life  contain  the  profoundest  interest 
and  beauty,  both  as  prophetic  of  a  most  various  hu- 
man growth,  and  as  attesting  the  healthful  power  of 
the  soul  creating  it. 

In  connection  with  this  part  of  Arnold's  labors, 
8 


86  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

we  have  seen  new  reason  to  justify  an  old  admira- 
tion for  a  religious  rite  prevailing  in  most  of  the 
Protestant  churches,  —  the  practice  of  Confirmation. 
We  have  no  sympathy,  indeed,  with  the  form  which 
it  assumes  in  the  English  Church  ;  we  acknowledge 
the  admixture  with  it  of  false  and  pernicious  moral 
ideas ;  we  object  to  its  use,  as  an  appendage  to  the 
ceremony  of  Baptism,  and  its  connection  with  the 
superstitions  represented  by  that  word.  Still,  when 
stripped  of  ritual  and  traditional  adhesions,  it  repre- 
sents a  momentous  fact  in  the  religious  life  of  indi- 
viduals, and  helps  to  turn  that  fact  to  its  proper 
account.  There  is  a  period,  extending  some  years 
beyond  mere  infancy,  of  imperfect  and  inchoate  re- 
sponsibility, during  which  the  unreflecting  play  of 
instinctive  feeling  constitutes  the  moving-  force,  and 
external  restraint  prescribed  by  others  affords  the 
regulative  principle,  of  all  our  activity ;  the  child  is 
delivered  over  for  guidance  to  his  parents  and  pro- 
tectors, with  whom  rests  the  largest  share  of  ac- 
countability for  what  he  is,  for  what  he  believes,  for 
what  he  loves.  This  period  passes  away ;  and  an- 
other comes,  in  which  the  instinctive  temptations 
become  more  dangerous,  and  less  within  reach  of 
outward  rule  and  authority ;  but  at  the  same  time 
the  faculties  needed  for  self-guidance  rapidly  ap- 
proach their  full  dimensions :  reflective  self-conscious- 
ness deepens,  manifesting  itself  under  the  form  of 
mere  shyness  in  ordinary  natures,  of  boastful  and 
irreverent  license  in  bad  ones,  of  moral  thoughtful- 
ness  in  minds  of  higher  tone :  the  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil,  and  the  force  of  the  electing  will, 


DR.    ARNOLD.  87 

assume  new  precision  and  strength ;  and  the  objects 
both  of  human  admiration  and  of  religious  faith 
become  the  centres  of  more  intent  inspection  and 
earnest  wonder.  The  transition  from  one  of  these 
periods  to  the  other  is  perhaps  the  greatest  spiritual 
crisis  of  human  life ;  the  turn  of  the  tide,  when  we 
quit  the  haven  and  drift  to  the  unstable  sea,  with  or 
without  the  compass  for  dark  nights,  and  the  eye 
skilled  to  steer  by  the  eternal  stars.  We  would 
mark,  with  devout  recognition,  this  era  of  experi- 
ence ;  give  voice,  method,  and  direction  to  its  tumul- 
tuous emotions ;  bring  its  burning  aspirations  to 
merge  in  the  cool  ascending  breath  of  prayer;  dis- 
tinctly present  the  young  disciple,  fast  becoming  one 
of  us,  before  the  Master  at  whose  feet  he  is  to  sit, 
and  the  God  whose  still,  small  voice  he  is  to  hear. 
True,  the  step  into  this  full  responsibility  is  not  in- 
stantaneous, and  can  have  no  exact  date  assigned 
to  it ;  and  no  turn  should  be  given  to  a  confirma- 
tion service,  implying  that  personal  accountability  is 
postponed  till  its  arrival.  But  exaggerations  of  this 
kind  are  easily  avoided,  so  as  to  render  such  a  rite 
truly  symbolical  of  the  fact ;  and,  with  such  provis- 
ion, we  would  fain,  by  some  Christian  consecration, 
claim  for  good  the  young  romance  of  life,  and  turn 
the  seasonal  bloom  of  nature  into  fruitful  flowers  of 
pure  faith. 

With  all  the  aids  of  the  chapel  services,  Arnold 
could  not  bring  his  personal  influence  to  bear  imme- 
diately upon  many  of  the  scholars.  Without  some 
interposed  medium  between  himself  and  the  multi- 
tude of  boys,  it  was  impossible  to  propagate  the 


88  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

power  of  his  ideas  and  principles  throughout  the 
school.  For  this  end,  he  not  only  availed  himself  of 
the  cooperation  of  the  Assistant  Masters,  but,  bring- 
ing the  Sixth  Form  or  Prapostors  into  close  connec- 
tion with  himself,  invested  them  with  larger  powers 
and  more  direct  responsibilities  of  control  over  the 
younger  pupils  than  they  had  possessed  before.  This 
system  offered,  doubtless,  the  best  chance  of  intro- 
ducing some  approach  to  moral  government  into  the 
wild  elements  of  a  public  school ;  and  infused  a 
wholesome  action  of  the  apia-roi  into  the  combination 
usually  presented  in  such  an  institution,  of  turbu- 
lent democracy,  and  absolute  despotism.  For  the 
youths  themselves,  thus  trusted  by  Arnold  with  a 
share  of  his  authority,  the  benefit  was  great.  The 
manliness,  the  earnestness,  the  religious  convictions, 
which  were  remarked  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge  as 
frequent  characteristics  of  the  Rugby  scholars,  were 
mainly  acquired,  it  is  probable,  during  the  period  of 
immediate  contact  with  himself.  The  general  im- 
pression, however,  of  the  public  school  system,  even 
as  worked  by  Arnold,  which  we  derive  from  these 
volumes,  is  very  painful ;  and  strongly  confirms  the 
unfavorable  recollections  of  our  own  experience. 
We  have  often  thought  that  Hobbes's  theory  of 
society  must  have  been  suggested  by  his  remem- 
brance of  the  grammar-school  at  Malmesbury.  If 
there  is  any  place  in  the  world  where  every  body 
is  convinced  that  he  has  a  right  to  every  thing,  and 
with  unlimited  voracity  of  claim  absorbs  whatever 
is  within  his  reach,  until  he  clashes  against  the  appe- 
tences, no  less  universal  and  no  less  entitled,  of  his 


DR.    ARNOLD.  89 

neighbors  in  the  scramble ;  where  a  state  of  war  is 
the  state  of  nature,  ever  and  anon  resumed  to  settle 
the  exact  sphere  of  every  new-comer,  and  all  deter- 
mination of  rights  has  to  be  fought  out;  where  order 
and  law  prevail  in  unstable  equilibrium  (like  the 
right  of  search  among  our  French  allies)  as  disa- 
greeable conditions  of  a  treaty  of  peace,  and  the 
only  principle  truly  and  heartily  respected  is,  Do,  if 
you  dare,  —  certainly  that  place  is  an  English  public 
school.  Speaking  loosely,  to  live  as  they  like  and 
as  they  can  is  the  primary  rule  of  children ;  to  live 
as  they  ought,  the  primary  rule  for  men.  A  crew  of 
boys  is  an  aggregate  of  self-wills,  limiting  one  an- 
other by  mutual  interference  and  repulsion.  A  socie- 
ty of  men  is  a  community  of  consciences  as  well  as 
interests,  combining  by  mutual  reverence,  cooper- 
ation, and  attraction.  Hence  public  opinion,  in 
adult  society,  is  expressive  of  the  minimum  of  moral 
principle  that  will  be  allowed;  in  schools,  of  the 
maximum  of  moral  principle  that  will  be  endured : 
and  the  force  which,  in  our  maturest  strength,  cornes 
in  aid  of  conscience,  in  our  early  weakness  presses, 
with  frequent  scoff  and  scorn,  against  it.  This  is  an 
unequal  match  for  wills  imperfectly  inured  to  hardi- 
hood. Hence  Arnold's  frequent  laments  as  to  the 
irresistible  strength  of  a  low  and  tyrannical  school- 
opinion  ;  his  vain  attempts  to  encourage  any  large 
number  to  struggle  against  the  stream ;  his  sorrow, 
ever  renewed,  at  watching  the  declension  from  inno- 
cence to  corruption ;  and  his  pathetic  forebodings 
on  receiving,  at  the  opening  of  each  half-year,  boys 
now  in  their  home  simplicity,  but  entering  on  a  trial, 
8* 


90  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

always  severe,  and  rarely  triumphant.  He  admits 
that,  while  minds  of  peculiar  strength  are  elevated 
by  the  ordeal,  the  ordinary  class  of  amiable,  well- 
disposed,  neutral  characters  are  usually  carried  away 
by  the  evil  influence  of  the  place,  and  gradually  sink 
from  promise  into  corruption.  Can  there  be  a  plain- 
er confession  of  the  unfitness  of  these  schools  for  the 
vast  majority  of  boys  ?  Startled  by  the  detection  of 
something  wrong,  he  exclaimed  on  one  occasion :  — 

"  If  this  goes  on,  it  will  end  either  my  life  at  Rugby,  or 
my  life  all  together.  How  can  I  go  on  with  my  Roman 
History  ?  There  all  is  noble  and  high-minded,  and  here  I 
find  nothing  but  the  reverse." 

And  in  a  letter  to  Sir  T.  Pasley  he  says :  — 

"  Since  I  began  this  letter,  I  have  had  some  of  the  .trou- 
bles of  school-keeping  ;  and  one  of  those  specimens  of  the 
evil  of  boy-nature,  which  makes  me  always  unwilling  to  un- 
dergo the  responsibility  of  advising  any  man  to  send  his 
son  to  a  public  school.  There  has  been  a  system  of  perse- 
cution carried  on  by  the  bad  against  the  good ;  and  then, 
when  complaint  was  made  to  me,  there  came  fresh  perse- 
cution on  that  very  account ;  and  divers  instances  of  boys 
joining  in  it  out  of  pure  cowardice,  both  physical  and 
moral,  when,  if  left  to  themselves,  they  would  have  rather 
shunned  it.  And  the  exceedingly  small  number  of  boys 
who  can  be  relied  upon  for  active  and  steady  good  on  these 
occasions,  and  the  way  in  which  the  decent  and  respectable 
of  ordinary  life  (Carlyle's  '  Shams  ')  are  sure  on  these  oc- 
casions to  swim  with  the  stream,  and  take  part  with  the  evil, 
makes  me  strongly  feel  exemplified  what  the  Scripture 
says  about  the  strait  gate  and  the  wide  one,  —  a  view  of 
human  nature,  which,  when  looking  on  human  life  in  its 
full  dress  of  decencies  and  civilizations,  we  are  apt,  I  im- 


DR.    ARNOLD.  91 

agine,  to  find  it  hard  to  realize.  But  here,  in  the  naked- 
ness of  boy-nature,  one  is  quite  able  to  understand  how 
there  could  not  be  found  so  many  as  even  ten  righteous  in 
a  whole  city.  And  how  to  meet  this  evil  I  really  do  not 
know ;  but  to  find  it  thus  rife  after  I  have  been  [so  many] 
years  fighting  against  it,  is  so  sickening,  that  it  is  very  hard 
not  to  throw  up  the  cards  in  despair,  and  upset  the  table. 
But  then  the  stars  of  nobleness,  which  I  see  amidst  the 
darkness,  in  the  case  of  the  few  good,  are  so  cheering,  that 
one  is  inclined  to  stick  to  the  ship  again,  and  have  another 
good  try  at  getting  her  about."  —  Vol.  I.  p.  161. 

That  he  was  not,  however,  without  the  refresh- 
ments due  to  so  faithful  a  heart,  is  evident  from  the 
conclusion  of  the  following  passage,  of  most  charac- 
teristic beauty :  — 

"  A  great  school  is  very  trying.  It  never  can  present 
images  of  rest  and  peace  ;  and  when  the  spring  and  activi- 
ty of  youth  is  altogether  unsanctified  by  any  thing  pure  and 
elevated  in  its  desires,  it  becomes  a  spectacle  that  is  as  diz- 
zying, and  almost  more  morally  distressing,  than  the  shouts 
and  gambols  of  a  set  of  lunatics.  It  is  very  startling  to  see 
so  much  of  sin  combined  with  so  little  of  sorrow.  In  a 
parish,  amongst  the  poor,  whatever  of  sin  exists,  there  is 
sure  also  to  be  enough  of  suffering  ;  poverty,  sickness,  and 
old  age  are  mighty  tamers  and  chastisers.  But,  with  boys 
of  the  richer  classes,  one  sees  nothing  but  plenty,  health, 
and  youth ;  and  these  are  really  awful  to  behold,  when  one 
must  feel  that  they  are  unblessed.  On  the  other  hand,  few 
things  are  more  beautiful  than  when  one  does  see  all  holy 
thoughts  and  principles,  not  the  forced  growth  of  pain, 
or  infirmity,  or  privation  ;  but  springing  up,  as  by  God's  im- 
mediate planting,  in  a  sort  of  garden  of  all  that  is  fresh 
and  beautiful ;  full  of  so  much  hope  for  this  world  as  well 
as  for  heaven."  —  Vol.  II.  p.  137. 


92  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

Though  Arnold's  great  work  lay  at  Rugby,  and  he 
achieved  it  in  a  way  which  was  soon  felt  in  every 
public  school  in  England,  his  sympathies  were  not 
collected  there;  they  were  interwoven  with  society 
at  every  fibre,  and  bled  with  the  wounds  of  humani- 
ty everywhere.  No  danger  could  befall  the  state, 
but  he  was  startled  by  it,  and  stood  up  to  give  the 
warning  or  inspire  the  defence.  No  idolatries  could 
be  set  up  within  the  Church,  but  he  exposed  and 
confronted  them  with  resolute  Iconoclasm.  And  as 
evils  of  both  kinds  seemed  to  him  to  arise  from  a 
false  theory  of  Christianity  on  the  one  hand,  and  a 
false  conception  of  the  re'Xos  of  civilized  communities 
on  the  other,  the  great  purpose  of  his  life  was  to 
write  a  work  on  Christian  politics,  organizing  into  a 
system,  and  presenting  in  their  unity,  the  opinions 
now  scattered  over  his  occasional  writing  and  cor- 
respondence on  Theology,  Social  Philosophy,  Eccle- 
siastical Polity,  Education,  and  Government.  For 
want  of  an  adequate  exposition  of  his  staminal 
ideas  on  this  subject,  it  is  difficult  even  now,  and 
was  much  more  so  at  the  time  of  their  expression, 
to  criticize  with  advantage  his  sentiments  on  the 
party  topics  of  the  day;  and  they  often  appeared 
like  narrow  prejudices,  when  in  fact  they  were  deduc- 
tions from  a  wide  and  generous  philosophy.  As  we 
may  have  occasion  in  a  future  Number  to  notice  his 
"  Fragment  on  the  Church,"  just  published  at  the 
particular  desire,  it  is  understood,  of  Mr.  Bunsen,  we 
shah1  reserve  this  whole  matter,  with  his  connected 
opinions  as  to  the  terms  of  citizenship  and  the  meth- 
ods of  public  education,  for  consideration  hereafter. 


DR.    ARNOLD.  93 

Even  his  Roman  History  was  subsidiary  in  his  mind 
to  the  development  of  his  conception  as  to  a  Chris"- 
tian  TroXiTft'a.  To  his  practical  understanding  no  the- 
ory of  the  Church  could  be  constructed  without  its 
history ;  no  history  of  it  could  be  written  without  en- 
tering deeply  into  the  spirit  of  its  early  struggle  with 
Paganism,  and  observing  the  inevitable  action  and 
reaction  of  the  two  religions ;  nor  could  any  appre- 
hension of  that  spirit  be  reached,  without  a  sympa- 
thy with  the  recollections  and  traditional  glories 
which  gave  the  Western  Polytheism  its  strength,  and 
a  consequent  familiarity  with  the  palmy  days  and 
legendary  lore  of  Roman  faith  and  Roman  virtue. 
Over  this  border-land,  covered  with  the  cities  of  the 
old  civilization,  and  the  forest-growth  of  the  new, 
Gibbon  is  at  present  our  only  guide.  His  sympa- 
thies were  wholly  given,  not  only  to  the  ancient 
world,  but  to  its  period  of  material  grandeur  and 
corruption,  when  the  severity  of  its  manners  and  the 
earnestness  of  its  life  had  passed  away.  His  whole 
spirit  was  unsocial  and  irreverent;  his  affections 
never  deep  in  the  sorrows,  his  moral  sense  not  re- 
volted by  the  sins,  of  the  beings  he  presents  on  his 
magnificent  stage ;  his  imagination  resting  on  the 
pageantry,  the  scenery,  the  mechanism,  the  dress,  the 
evolutions  of  national  existence,  but  not  penetrating 
to  its  real  life;  and  his  Epicurean  cast  of  character 
wholly  disqualifying  him  for  any  appreciation  of  the 
genius  and  agency  of  Christianity.  Arnold's  en- 
thusiasm fell  pretty  nearly  on  the  same  objects  as 
Gibbon's  contempt;  travelling  through  the  heathen 
world  as  a  disciple  of  the  porch  rather  than  the  gar- 


94  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

den,  he  pitched  his  admiration  on  Republican,  not 
on  Imperial  Rome;  and  passing  through  Christen- 
dom, not  as  an  alien,  but  as  a  sworn  brother,  he 
would  have  taught  men  the  meaning  of  a  " martyr" 
and  made  them  feel  that  it  was  not  ridiculous  to  lay 
down  the  life  for  simplicity  and  truth. 

There  are,  we  think,  in  Arnold's  scheme  of  opin- 
ion, many  deviations  from  logical  consistency.  But 
there  never  was  a  man  whose  system  of  thought 
was  pervaded  by  a  more  evident  moral  consistency. 
His  character  —  a  living  whole  —  cannot  be  ana- 
lyzed without  being  lost  from  view.  Its  beauty  is 
not  of  form,  like  a  statue;  or  of  color,  like  a  pic- 
ture; but  of  movement,  like  —  what  he  simply  was 
—  a  man :  and  the  moment  you  arrest  it  to  seek  its 
essence,  it  is  gone.  Still  we  may  say,  without  much 
error,  that  at  the  very  fountain-head  of  his  nature, 
far  up  as  among  the  old  granitic  rocks  of  a  hardier 
world,  there  sprang  up  a  clear,  fresh,  exhaustless  love 
of  goodness ;  that  sometimes  rushed  down  in  a  tor- 
rent, like  passion,  only  that,  with  all  its  vehemence, 
it  was  never  turbid ;  that  mingled  a  purity  with  all 
the  courses  of  his  thought,  and  fertilized  the  retreats 
of  his  affections,  and  wholly  surrounded  and  bap- 
tized the  temple  of  his  worship.  The  moral  ele- 
ment —  and  that  too,  originally,  in  its  bare  and  rug- 
ged form  of  the  sense  of  justice  and  hatred  of 
wrong  —  was  transcendent  over  all  else  in  him.  It 
was  not,  as  in  most  men,  passive  and  negative,  con- 
tent with  preserving  its  possessor  from  evil,  and  ex- 
ercising only  a  protectorate ;  but  a  right  royal  pow- 
er, with  divine  title  to  the  world  ;  aggressive,  indom- 


DR.    ARNOLD.  95 

itable,  magnanimous.  Christianity  had  something 
to  do,  to  make  him  rest  and  sit  as  a  disciple  at  the 
feet;  to  raise  him  to  the  spiritual  heights  of  its 
heaven,  and  subdue  him  to  the  sweet  charities  of 
earth.  But  it  did  both.  He  was  an  evangelized 
Stoic.  From  walking  in  the  Porch,  he  came  to 
kneel  before  the  Cross.  No  wonder  that  he  burst 
into  tears,  when  —  once  in  conversation  —  St.  Paul 
was  set  in  some  one's  estimate  above  St.  John :  for 
he  himself  passed  from  the  likeness  of  one  towards 
that  of  the  other,  and  so  had  sympathies  with  both ; 
and  the  fire  of  the  man  of  Tarsus  subdued  itself  in 
him,  as  life  advanced,  more  and  more  into  the  Ephe- 
sian  apostle's  altar-light  of  saintly  love. 

The  leading  principle  of  his  character  may  be 
traced  through  his  sentiments  on  subjects  wildly  re- 
mote from  each  other.  It  was  his  Moral  Faculty, 
his  sense  of  Obligation,  that  awakened  his  intense 
antipathy  to  both  Benthamism  and  Newmanism, — 
the  two  grand  counterfeits  forged  at  the  opposite  ex- 
tremes of  error,  of  true  moral  responsibility  and  per- 
sonal duty ;  the  one  merging  the  conscience  in  self- 
interest,  the  other  in  priestcraft ;  the  one  identifying 
moral  and  sentient  good,  the  other  separating  moral 
and  spiritual;  both  extinguishing  the  proper  person- 
ality and  individual  sacredness  of  man ;  the  one 
treating  him  as  a  thing  to  be  mechanically  shaped, 
the  other  as  a  thing  to  be  mysteriously  conjured 
with ;  with  infallible  nostrums,  labelled  "  motives " 
in  the  one  case,  "  sacraments  "  in  the  other,  promis- 
ing to  cure  the  sick  world,  but  alas !  only  decoying  it 
from  the  natural  sources  of  health,  and  spoiling  its 


96  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

relish  for  the  free  breath  of  heaven.  In  opposition 
to  both  these  systems,  which  sought  for  human  con- 
duct some  external  guide,  one  in  social  utility,  the 
other  in  church  authority,  Arnold  held  fast  to  the 
internal  guidance,  which  he  maintained  God  had 
given  to  all,  and  through  which  his  Will  was  practi- 
cable, and  Himself  accessible  to  all.  That  this  was 
the  precise  position  which  he  conceived  himself  to 
occupy,  is  evident  from  the  following  exposition  of 
his  moral  faith :  — 

"  To  supply  the  place  of  Conscience  with  the  apxai  of 
Fanaticism  on  one  hand,  and  of  Utilitarianism  on  the  oth- 
er, —  on  one  side  is  the  mere  sign  from  Heaven,  craved  by 
those  who  heeded  not  Heaven's  first  sign  written  within 
them  ;  —  on  the  other,  it  is  the  idea,  which,  hardly  hover- 
ing on  the  remotest  outskirts  of  Christianity,  readily  flies 
off"  to  the  camp  of  Materialism  and  Atheism ;  the  mere 
pared  and  plucked  notion  of  '  good  '  exhibited  by  the  word 
'  useful ' ;  which  seems  to  me  the  idea  of  '  good '  robbed 
of  its  nobleness,  —  the  sediment  from  which  the  filtered 
water  has  been  assiduously  separated.  It  were  a  strange 
world,  if  there  were  indeed  no  one  apxiTficroviKov  d8os  but 
that  of  the  gvptpfpov ;  if  KoAoj/  were  only  KoAoi/,  on  gvpfapov. 
But  this  is  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  English  mind  ; 
the  Puritan  and  the  Benthamite  has  an  inmense  part  of  this 
in  common  ;  and  thus  the  Christianity  of  the  Puritan  is 
coarse  and  fanatical ;  —  he  cannot  relish  what  there  is  in 
it  of  beautiful,  or  delicate,  or  ideal.  Men  get  embarrassed 
by  the  common  cases  of  a  misguided  conscience  ;  but  a  com- 
pass may  be  out  of  order  as  well  as  a  conscience,  and  the 
needle  may  point  due  south  if  you  hold  a  powerful  magnet 
in  that  direction.  Still,  the  compass,  generally  speaking,  is  a 
true  and  sure  guide,  and  so  is  the  conscience  ;  and  you  can 


DR.    ARNOLD.  97 

trace  the  deranging  influence  on  the  latter  quite  as  surely  as 
on  the  former.  Again,  there  is  confusion  in  some  men's 
minds,  who  say  that,  if  we  so  exalt  conscience,  we  make 
ourselves  the  paramount  judges  of  all  things,  and  so  do  not 
live  by  faith  and  obedience.  But  he  who  believes  his  con- 
science to  be  God's  law,  by  obeying  it  obeys  God.  It  is  as 
much  obedience,  as  it  is  obedience  to  follow  the  dictates  of 
God's  Spirit ;  and  in  every  case  of  obedience  to  any  law  or 
guide  whatsoever,  there  must  always  be  one  independent 
act  of  the  mind  pronouncing  one  determining  proposition, 
'  I  ought  to  obey ' ;  so  that  in  obedience,  as  in  every  moral 
act,  we  are  and  must  be  the  paramount  judges,  because  we 
must  ourselves  decide  on  that  very  principle,  *  that  we  ought 
to  obey.' 

"  And  as  for  Faith,  there  is  again  a  confusion  in  the  use 
of  the  term.  It  is  not  Scriptural,  but  fanatical,  to  oppose 
faith  to  reason.  Faith  is  properly  opposed  to  sense,  and  is 
the  listening  to  the  dictates  of  the  higher  part  of  our  mind, 
to  which  alone  God  speaks,  rather  than  to  the  lower  part  of 
us,  to  which  the  world  speaks." 

The  peculiarities  of  his  theological  opinion  are 
referable,  no  less  distinctly  than  his  philosophy,  to 
the  depth  and  clearness  of  his  moral  sentiments.  It 
was  a  necessary  consequence  of  this,  that  the  dif- 
ference between  right  and  wrong  should  present 
itself  to  him  as  an  infinite  quantity ;  that  separating 
the  two,  there  should  seem  "  a  great  gulf  fixed " ; 
that  man  should  appear  to  range,  from  his  lowest  to 
his  highest  desires,  over  an  immense  interval,  and  in 
his  extremes  of  temptation  and  aspiration  to  lie 
apart  from  himself,  far  as  demon  from  angel.  He 
felt,  with  a  profound  consciousness,  the  severe  and 
internecine  struggle  between  these  two,  inevitable  to 
9 


98  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  faithful  mind,  and  understood  the  whole  history 
of  that  inner  strife,  the  shame  of  defeat,  the  thankful- 
ness of  victory.  Hence  his  conceptions  both  of  the  Di- 
vine Government  (including  the  Christian  economy) 
and  of  the  allotted  work  of  life  amount  almost  to  a 
scheme  of  Dualism.  He  looks  up,  and  sees  God,  in 
himself,  in  his  Christ,  in  his  Spirit,  in  all  that  is 
holy  enough  to  represent  him  below,  engaged  in 
"  putting  down  moral  evil."  He  looks  within,  and 
sees  his  own  soul  enlisted,  by  an  articulate  and  bind- 
ing call,  in  the  same  great  warfare.  He  looks  around, 
and  in  the  constitution  and  arrangements  of  the 
world  he  sees  the  well-ordered  battle-field,  and  in  the 
evolutions  of  history,  the  marchings  and  counter- 
marchings  of  hosts,  prepared  for  the  great  campaign. 
One  to  whom  the  whole  scene  of  things  resolved 
itself  into  this  aspect  could  not  but  enter,  with  pas- 
sionate fellow-feeling,  into  the  character  of  St.  Paul ; 
seize,  with  instinctive  apprehension,  the  great  scheme 
of  the  Apostle's  spiritual  Christianity;  thrust  away, 
with  indignant  reason,  every  priest,  every  rite,  every 
idol  of  the  fancy,  that  interposed  between  him  and 
the  Christ  in  heaven,  whose  immediate  disciple  — 
"by  faith,  not  by  sight"  —  he  was,  no  less  than  the 
convert  of  Damascus,  and  to  whom  alone  his  alle- 
giance was  due.  In  the  same  spirit  he  objects  to 
the  mere  historical  Christ  of  the  Unitarians  :  instead 
of  a  being  nearly  two  thousand  years  off,  he  needs 
to  feel  himself  the  disciple  of  one  who  is  living  now, 
and  to  whose  heavenly  spirit  his  own  may  draw  nigh 
in  trustful  devotion.  In  his  view  of  Christ,  there  is 
nothing  to  which,  with  very  slight  modification  of 


DR.    ARNOLD.  99 

language,  we  should  not  heartily  assent.  He  is  re- 
garded, in  Arnold's  theology,  less  as  the  achiever  of 
Redemption,  than  as  himself  a  Revelation  of  the 
Divine  nature  ;  it  was  not  as  the  author  of  binding 
precepts,  or  the  teacher  of  new  truths,  or  the  exem- 
plar of  a  good  life,  but  as  the  symbol  of  God's  moral 
perfections,  that  he  was  most  dear  and  holy  to  this 
noble  heart.  Arnold's  practical,  and  little  specula- 
tive or  ideal  mind,  rendered  this  view  particularly 
needful  for  him:  God,  in  himself,  —  the  Absolutely 
Infinite,  —  being  to  his  thought  inconceivable  and 
unapproachable,  a  Gfos  apfaros,  awfully  beyond  human 
affections,  unless  contemplated  in  some  concrete  ex- 
pression of  his  nature.  The  cast  of  Arnold's  mind 
gave  him  a  deep  sympathy  with  the  human  element 
in  the  Scriptures;  the  answer  of  his  quick  nature 
told  him,  in  many  a  prophet's  strain,  and  many  an 
historic  touch,  that  a  man's  hand  had  been  there ; 
and  his  habit  of  critical  examination  of  the  records 
of  antiquity  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  overlook 
the  symptoms  of  origin  not  infallible  in  some  of  the 
books.  Hence  he  wholly  repudiates  the  doctrine  of 
plenary  inspiration,  and  even  speaks  of  Coleridge's 
"  Confessions  of  an  Inquiring  Spirit,"  bold  as  it  is,  as 
only  the  "  beginning  of  the  end  "  on  this  great  sub- 
ject. He  says  to  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge :  — 

"  Have  you  seen  your  uncle's  '  Letters  on  Inspiration,' 
which  I  believe  are  to  be  published  ?  They  are  well  fitted 
to  break  ground  in  the  approaches  to  that  momentous  ques- 
tion which  involves  in  it  so  great  a  shock  to  existing  notions  ; 
the  greatest,  probably,  that  has  ever  been  given  since  the  dis- 
covery of  the  falsehood  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Pope's  infalli- 


100  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

bility.  Yet  it  must  come,  and  will  end,  in  spite  of  the 
fears  and  clamors  of  the  weak  and  bigoted,  in  the  higher 
exalting,  and  more  sure  establishing,  of  Christian  truth."  — 
Vol.  I.  p.  358. 

Nor  did  he,  in  relinquishing  the  literary  inspira- 
tion, cling  fast,  as  some  ineffectually  pretend  to  do, 
to  the  personal  infallibility  of  the  Apostles,  even  on 
matters  nearly  affecting  their  own  mission  and  the 
faith  of  the  early  Church :  but  found  it  not  incon- 
sistent with  his  unconditional  reverence  for  St.  Paul, 
to  acknowledge  that  he  entertained  the  fallacious 
expectation  of  an  approaching  end  of  the  world. 

Condemning  the  spurious  heavenly-mindedness 
affected  by  certain  religious  professors,  he  says  :  — 

"  There  are  some,  Englishmen  unhappily,  but  most  un- 
worthy to  be  so,  who  affect  to  talk  of  freedom  and  a  citi- 
zen's rights  and  duties  as  things  about  which  a  Christian 
should  not  care.  Like  all  their  other  doctrines,  this  comes 
out  of  the  shallowness  of  their  little  minds,  '  understanding 
neither  what  they  say,  nor  whereof  they  affirm.'  True  it  is 
that  St.  Paul,  expecting  that  the  world  was  shortly  to  end, 
tells  a  man  not  to  care  even  if  he  were  in  a  state  of  per- 
sonal slavery.  That  is  an  endurable  evil  which  will  shortly 
cease,  not  in  itself  only,  but  in  its  consequences.  But  even 
for  the  few  years  during  which  he  supposed  the  world  would 
exist,  he  says,  '  if  thou  mayest  be  free,  use  it  rather.' "  — 
Vol.  II.  p.  413. 

We  can  imagine,  indeed,  the  consternation  with 
which  dogmatical  Christians,  who  must  have  a  be- 
lief imposed  upon  then:  nature,  rather  than  educed 
from  it,  would  regard  Arnold's  free  dealings  with 
the  authority  of  Scripture  in  matters  not  spiritual. 


DR.    ARNOLD.  101 

He  could  not  shut  his  eyes  to  the  manifest  traces  in 
the  book  of  Daniel  of  an  origin  full  as  late  as  the 
reign  of  Antiochus  Epiphanes ;  and  in  proof  of  the 
mere  historical  character  of  its  "  pretended  prophe- 
cies," he  adduces,  with  apparent  unconsciousness,  the 
very  same  arguments  which  in  1724-1727  brought 
upon  Collins  the  prolixity  of  frightened  Churchmen 
and  the  imputation  of  secret  unbelief.  (Vol.  II.  p. 
188.)  Perhaps  his  early  study  of  Geology,  under 
the  guidance  of  Buckland,  may  have  combined  with 
historical  criticisms  to  loosen  the  hold  of  the  book 
of  Genesis  on  his  mind  :  we  find  him,  at  least,  treat- 
ing the  problem  as  to  the  origin  of  mankind  from  a 
common  stock  as  an  open  question,  remaining  to  be 
decided  by  physiological  and  ethnological  research ; 
and  he  is  even  ready  with  a  theory  to  meet  the  case 
of  a  plurality  of  races,  and  exhibit  its  harmony  with 
the  general  analogy  of  Providence  in  the  education, 
of  the  world.  (Vol.  I.  p.  371.) 

Well  may  orthodox  rigor  stand  aghast,  and  think, 
What  then  becomes  of  our  Adamic  inheritance  of 
corruption,  "naturally  engendered"  in  "every  man"? 
of  the  fatal  effects  of  the  fall  of  our  first  parents  ? 
of  the  whole  scheme  for  redeeming  our  last  race 
from  its  despair  ?  Either  Christianity  must  forego 
its  universal  character,  and  be  restrained  to  the  tribe 
of  whose  progenitors  the  Mosaic  narrative  speaks ; 
or  its  whole  economy  must  be  addressed  to  the  act- 
ual moral  constitution  of  men,  irrespective  of  their 
original  parentage.  It  is  not  for  us  to  satisfy  such 
objections.  We  have  little  doubt  that  Arnold's  doc- 
trine of  human  depravity  was,  like  Coleridge's,  a 
9* 


102  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

mere  expression  of  the  insatiable  thirst  of  his  intense 
moral  nature:  conscious  of  a  love  and  desire  of 
goodness  far  beyond  the  measure  of  his  best  attain- 
ment, feeling  the  interval  between  the  obligations  he 
reverently  owned  and  the  life  he  actually  lived,  he 
described  this  fact,  which  is  human,  not  personal,  by 
saying  that  the  Will  of  man  is  stricken  with  disease 
and  infirmity,  and,  without  the  helping  spirit  of  God, 
is  ill-matched  with  its  acknowledged  duties.  The 
entire  trust  which  he  reposed  on  the  oracles  of  Con- 
science and  Reason  is  further  evident  from  his  adop- 
tion of  Locke's  opinion,  —  which  it  is  the  fashion  to 
treat  as  virtual  Anti-supernaturalism,  —  that  "  the 
doctrine  must  prove  the  miracle,  not  miracle  the  doc- 
trine." On  this  point  he  says  :  — 

"  You  complain  of  those  persons  who  judge  of  a  Reve- 
lation, not  by  its  evidence,  but  by  its  substance.  It  has 
always  seemed  to  me  that  its  substance  is  a  most  essential 
part  of  its  evidence  ;  and  that  miracles  wrought  in  favor  of 
what  was  foolish  or  wicked,  would  only  prove  Manicheism. 
We  are  so  perfectly  ignorant  of  the  unseen  world,  that  the 
character  of  any  supernatural  power  can  only  be  judged  of 
by  the  moral  character  of  the  statements  which  it  sanctions ; 
thus  only  can  we  tell  whether  it  be  a  revelation  from  God, 
or  from  the  Devil.  If  his  father  tells  a  child  something 
which  seems  to  him  monstrous,  faith  requires  him  to  submit 
his  own  judgment,  because  he  knows  his  father's  person, 
and  is  sure,  therefore,  that  his  father  tells  it  him.  But  we 
cannot  thus  know  God,  and  can  only  recognize  his  voice  by 
the  words  spoken  being  in  agreement  with  our  idea  of  his 
moral  nature."  —  Vol.  II.  p.  221. 

All  these  free  and  natural  movements  of  his  mind 


DR.     ARNOLD.  103 

on  questions  the  most  momentous,  are  concurrent 
with  a  manifest  increase  in  the  depth  and  loftiness 
of  his  religious  character ;  a  coincidence  perfectly 
intelligible  to  those  who  appreciate,  as  he  did,  — 

"  .  .  .  .  the  great  philosophical  and  Christian  truth,  which 
seems  to  me  the  very  truth  of  truths,  that  Christian  unity, 
and  the  perfection  of  Christ's  Church,  are  independent  of 
theological  articles  of  opinion ;  consisting  in  a  certain  moral 
state,  and  moral  and  religious  affections,  which  have  existed 
in  good  Christians  of  all  ages  and  all  communions,  along 
with  an  infinitely  varying  proportion  of  truth  and  error."  — 
Vol.  I.  p.  359. 

The  supremacy  of  the  moral  nature  in  Arnold 
was  so  absolute,  as  to  determine  all  his  tastes  exclu- 
sively towards  objects  of  real  and  of  human  interest. 
He  could  never  construct  a  world  for  himself,  of 
ideas,  of  images,  of  things ;  he  must  live  among  per- 
sons. Metaphysics,  Art,  Science,  had  no  attractions 
for  him.  If  he  praises  Plato,  it  is  the  Phcedo  that 
extorts  his  admiration,  and  that  chiefly  for  the  lan- 
guage. (I.  391.)  He  does  not  care  for  Florence, 
(I.  304,)  and  throughout  his  Continental  journeys 
never  mentions  even  a  picture  or  a  statue.  He  could 
teach  the  first  six  books  of  Euclid!  (II.  206,)  and 
rather  than  have  physical  science  the  principal  thing 
in  his  son's  mind,  he  "  would  gladly  have  him  think 
that  the  sun  went  round  the  earth,  and  that  the 
stars  were  so  many  spangles  set  in  the  bright  blue 
firmament."  (II.  37.)  And  where  human  knowl- 
edge occupies  the  transition  territory  from  things  to 
persons,  viz.  in  Natural  History,  or  the  study  of  liv- 
ing things,  he  was  deterred  from  entering  by  the  up- 


104  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

rising  of  imperfect  moral  sympathies,  which  could 
neither  be  laid  asleep  nor  satisfied :  "  the  whole  sub- 
ject," he  said,  "of  the  brute  creation  is  to  me  one 
of  such  painful  mystery  that  I  dare  not  approach 
it."  (II.  348.) 

We  must  tear  ourselves  away  from  this  delightful 
companionship  with  one  whose  image  will  hence- 
forth stand  in  one  of  the  most  sacred  niches  of  our 
memory.  His  political  opinions,  amply  discussed 
in  Reviews  of  a  different  character,  we  cannot  notice. 
They  were  in  the  spirit  with  all  the  expressions  of 
his  mind :  the  joint  results  of  a  clear-sighted  and 
unconquerable  sense  of  justice  and  a  profound  his- 
torical wisdom,  that,  with  that  moral  eye  fully  open, 
had  read  the  lives  of  nations,  and  connected  their 
punishments  with  their  sins.  His  occasional  faults, 
his  vehement  expression  of  opinion,  his  severe  con- 
demnation of  individuals  not  fairly  obnoxious  to  per- 
sonal reproach,  we  feel  no  desire  to  draw  forth  for 
censure.  These  things  may  well  pass,  without  a 
word,  in  such  a  man.  It  is  hard  enough  to  speak 
with  just  and  wise  appreciation  of  what  is  noble  and 
great  in  one  to  whom  we  look  up  through  so  im- 
measurable a  distance ;  and  one  ought  in  truth  to 
be  like  him,  to  show  him  as  he  is.  Statuere  qui  sit 
sapiens  vel  maxime  videtur  esse  sapientis. 


CHURCH  AND   STATE.* 

[From  the  Prospective  Review  for  May,  1845.] 

THE  questions  which  engage  the  attention  of 
speculative  men  often  appear  to  have  little  connec- 
tion with  the  actual  affairs  of  their  time  :  and  are  re- 
garded, both  by  those  who  discuss  them  and  by 
those  who  despise  them,  as  mere  ideal  things,  touch- 
ing at  no  point  the  realities  amid  which  they  appear. 
Yet  this  estimate,  invariably  made  by  contempora- 
ries, is  as  invariably  reversed  by  posterity.  In  the 
historical  retrospect  of  any  period,  the  relation  be- 
tween its  Thought  and  Action  becomes  clear :  and 
its  philosophy  appears,  no  less  than  its  poetry,  its  art, 
or  even  its  polity,  distinctly  expressive  of  its  real  in- 

*  The  Ideal  of  a  Christian  Church  considered  in  Comparison  with 
existing  Practice.  By  Rev.  W.  G.  Ward,  M.  A.,  Fellow  of  Baliol 
College,  Oxford.  Second  Edition.  1844. 

The  Kingdom  of  Christ  delineated ;  in  Two  Essays,  on  our  Lord's 
own  Account  of  his  Person  and  of  the  Nature  of  his  Kingdom,  and  on 
the  Constitution,  Powers,  and  Ministry  of  a  Christian  Church,  as  ap- 
pointed by  Himself.  By  Richard  Whately,  D.  D.,  Archbishop  of 
Dublin.  1841. 

On  the  Constitution  of  the  Church  and  State,  according  to  the  Idea 
of  each.  By  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge.  1839. 

Fragment  on  the  Church.  By  Thomas  Arnold,  D.  D.,  late  Head 
Master  of  Rugby  School.  1844. 


106  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

ternal  life.  Nay,  the  very  literature  which  most  af- 
fects universality  is  often  most  deeply  stamped  with 
the  characteristics  of  age  and  race.  The  genius  of 
a  peculiar  civilization,  slowly  and  obscurely  rising, 
appears  to  reach  its  culminating  intensity  in  its 
philosophy.  Standing  at  that  point  of  its  culture, 
we  occupy  the  precise  meridian  from  which  it  looked 
forth  on  the  universe.  What  it  missed  and  what  it 
saw,  what  it  loved  and  what  it  hated,  all  its  concep- 
tions of  truth  and  all  its  aspirations  after  good,  are 
collected  there,  and  so  constructed  into  a  systematic 
whole,  as  to  be  apprehensible  at  a  single  view. 
There  is  nothing  more  absolutely  Hellenic  than  the 
Dialogues  of  Plato,  or  more  distinctively  medieval 
than  the  writings  of  Thomas  Aquinas :  the  England 
of. the  Reformation  perfected  itself  in  Locke,  and  the 
France  of  the  Revolution  is  reflected  in  Diderot.  He 
who  would  thoroughly  appreciate  the  actuating  spir- 
it of  any  period  must  study,  not  only  the  debates  of 
its  Senates,  but  the  discussions  of  its  Schools. 

In  the  theories  of  Society  produced  by  the  great 
masters  of  thought  in  ancient  and  in  modern  times, 
we  find  this  remarkable  difference  :  that  with  the  for- 
mer the  grand  problem  is,  to  adjust  the  relations 
of  the  State  to  the  Individual ;  with  the  latter,  of 
the  State  to  the  Church.  Yet  the  change,  when 
rightly  interpreted,  will  appear  a  change  rather  of 
names  than  of  things,  and  presents  us  only  with  two 
cases  of  a  problem  essentially  one  and  the  same. 
No  one  can  suppose  that  the  agency  of  the  Individu- 
al, so  much  guarded  against  in  the  ideal  communi- 
ties of  the  Greek  philosophers,  has  vanished  from 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  107 

modern  society,  and  can-led  off  the  difficulties  which 
its  presence  was  once  felt  to  introduce.  Nor  is  it 
correct  to  imagine  that  the  influences  which  we  de- 
note by  the  word  Church  constitute  a  new  element 
special  to  Christian  nations,  and  had  not  to  be  taken 
into  account  in  schemes  of  ancient  polity.  They 
were  in  truth  comprised  in  the  Hellenic  idea  of  the 
State  ;  which  was  not  equivalent,  as  with  us,  to  the 
mere  aggregate  of  individual  interests  in  respect  to 
physical  good,  but  represented  all  those  moral  ends 
which  transcend  personal  happiness,  and  constitute 
the  re\fi6rarov  re\os  of  human  life.  An  institution  for 
the  protection  of  "body  and  goods"  would  have 
been  considered  by  Plato  as  a  club  of  private  per- 
sons requiring  to  be  strictly  watched  ;  or  at  most  as 
a  police  organization  subsidiary  only  to  the  true  aims 
of  government :  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  direct 
training  of  individual  character,  the  influence  over 
prevailing  habits,  the  maintenance  of  the  highest 
sentiments,  which  we  consider  the  proper  business  of 
the  Church,  he  claimed  as  characteristic  functions  of 
the  public  polity.  So  that,  when  we  look  to  the 
principles  of  human  nature  operative  in  each,  we 
find  in  the  modern  State  only  the  corporate  existence 
of  the  ancient  tSiwr^y;  and  in  the  ancient  ir6\is  the 
territorial  sovereignty  of  the  modern  e/c/cX^o-ia.  The 
real  subject  of  controversy  is  at  bottom  still  the 
same ;  as  to  the  proper  sphere  and  limits,  in  the  af- 
fairs of  men,  of  Self-will  on  the  one  hand  and  Rev- 
erence on  the  other.  That  the  mere  form  of  the 
question  has  undergone  a  change,  is  a  natural  conse- 
quence of  the  new  cast  which  has  been  given  to  the 


• 


108  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

elementary  forces  of  social  life.  The  Greek  mythol- 
ogy and  worship  were,  for  the  most  part,  unmoral, 
and  had  little  tendency  to  control  the  individual  will 
by  a  sentiment  of  duty  ;  and  to  inspire  and  maintain 
in  a  people  the  sense  of  a  law  higher  than  them- 
selves, philosophers,  left  at  fault  by  the  Temple, 
looked  to  the  Senate-house.  The  Christian  faith,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  in  its  very  essence  moral,  and 
wherever  taken  to  heart,  has  established  over  private 
life  the  august  rule  of  conscience.  Religion,  in  its 
proper  sense,  having  thus  gone  over  from  the  State 
to  the  Individual,  has  left  the  functions  of  the  sov- 
ereign power  in  a  reduced  condition,  and  made  them 
rather  protective  of  the  personal  desires,  than  an  en- 
croachment upon  them :  and  hence  the  modern  no- 
tion of  the  purely  negative  office  of  government, 
and  the  limitation  of  its  action  to  what  are  called 
secular  affairs. 

It  is  easy  to  understand,  when  these  changes  are 
taken  into  account,  why  men  whose  minds  were 
purely  antique  —  as  Pythagoras,  Plato,  Aristotle  — 
regarded  the  State  as  wholly  including  all  the  influ- 
ences now  contained  under  our  word  "  Church," 
while  men  in  sympathy  with  modern  ideas — as 
Warburton  and  Locke  —  regard  it  as  wholly  exclud- 
ing them ;  why  writers  imbued  with  the  wisdom  of 
both  periods  —  as  Hooker  and  Arnold  —  refuse  to 
admit  either  agency  as  prohibitive  of  the  other,  and 
therefore  pronounce  the  two  spheres  of  operation  ab- 
solutely coincident;  and  why  those  who  engage 
themselves  chiefly  wih  the  transition  from  the  Hea- 
then to  the  Christian  civilization  should  admire,  with 


CHURCH    AND    STATE. 


Mr.  "Ward,  the  sacerdotal  system  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
which  practically  leavened  the  mass  of  European 
population  with  Christian  ideas,  and  should  desire 
to  subordinate  the  human  sovereignty  of  govern- 
ment to  the  divine  supremacy  of  the  Church. 

At  the  present  moment  we  can  turn  our  eyes  to 
no  considerable  province  of  Christendom,  which  is 
not  agitated  by  the  contest,  between  the  State  and 
the  Church,  for  the  private  life  of  individuals.  There 
seems  to  be  a  general  conviction,  that  the  Reforma- 
tion has  developed  itself  into  an  excessive  self-will ; 
that  its  maxims  have  weakened  religious  unity,  and 
relaxed  temporal  authority ;  that  the  great  multitude 
of  men  require  more  systematic  guidance,  more  pro- 
tection from  temptation,  more  steady  help  towards  a 
Christian  life,  than  are  secured  by  its  methods,  ever 
alternating  between  the  repose  of  latitudinarian  ease, 
and  paroxysms  of  importunate  zeal.  That  the  let- 
alone  system  is  incompetent  to  the  moral  manage- 
ment of  the  new  economical  conditions  under  which 
society  exists,  is  the  inference  generally  drawn  from 
the  frightful  mass  of  practical  Heathenism  existing 
in  the  heart  of  Christian  countries.  But  whether  the 
new  and  needed  power  shall  be  assumed  by  the 
sceptre  or  the  cross ;  whether  either  can  make  good 
its  exclusive  prerogative,  from  natural  reason,  from 
human  prescription,  from  divine  ordination  ;  whether 
both  must  concur,  and  lay  aside  all  mutual  jealousy 
in  a  work  demanding  alike  the  strength  of  the  one 
and  the  persuasion  of  the  other,  —  are  questions  by 
which  the  whole  mind  of  Europe  is  vehemently 
moved.  Scotland,  impatient  of  the  restraints  im- 
10 


110  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

posed  by  the  law  on  its  ecclesiastical  activity,  sets 
up  its  Free  Church.  Ireland,  ruled  by  priests,  is 
tempting  the  State  —  too  long  hated  and  defied  — 
to  seek  alliance  with  the  only  power  through  which 
the  functions  of  government  can  be  recovered.  Eng- 
land, ashamed  of  its  neglected  population,  is  agitat- 
ed by  the  rival  efforts  of  a  repentant  legislature  and 
a  repentant  clergy,  aiming  to  regulate  the  labor,  to 
abate  the  ignorance,  to  elevate  the  desires  of  the 
people,  the  one  by  legalized  discipline,  the  other  by 
a  sacerdotal  police.  France,  with  a  Catholic  king, 
whose  policy  has  been  indulgent  to  a  clergy  long  de- 
spised, sees  its  Church  unsatisfied,  and  resolved  to 
dispute  with  the  University  the  right  of  control  over 
public  instruction.  Switzerland  becomes  the  centre 
of  anxious  attention  to  all  Europe,  while  deciding 
the  fate  of  the  Jesuits,  to  whom  Lucerne  had  intrust- 
ed the  education  of  her  citizens.  And  if  at  Treves 
another  Luther  has  arisen  in  the  person  of  Rouge,  it 
is  from  too  bold  an  attempt  to  reassert  the  power 
of  Ultramontane  superstition  over  the  Catholics  of 
modern  Germany.  Everywhere  an  aggressive  ac- 
tion has  commenced  upon  the  private  elements  of 
society  :  and  usually  the  civil  and  ecclesiastical  pow- 
ers appear  as  competitors  for  the  new  influence 
which  is  confessedly  required.  Hence  the  revived 
interest  in  those  discussions  of  polity,  which  have 
at  all  times  so  much  attraction  for  thoughtful  men, 
and  have  given  occasion  to  the  works  of  our  greatest 
moralists. 

Of  the  treatises  mentioned   at  the  head   of  this 
article,  only  those  of  Coleridge  and  Arnold  attempt 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  Ill 

directly  to  define  the  relation  between  the  Church 
and  State.  The  other  two  are  wholly  occupied  with 
the  internal  constitution  and  proper  office  of  the 
Christian  Church  considered  by  itself.  Incidentally, 
however,  a  State  theory  is  involved  in  this  narrower 
discussion :  for  in  proportion  as  the  range  of  eccle- 
siastical functions  is  made  to  take  in  more  or  less  of 
the  moral  work  of  society,  will  less  or  more  remain 
for  the  civil  power  to  undertake.  Accordingly,  there 
is  no  difficulty  in  perceiving  that  Mr.  Ward  and 
Archbishop  Whately  occupy  the  opposite  extremities 
of  political  philosophy  as  well  as  of  theological  sys- 
tem. Their  whole  conception  of  human  life  is  so 
different,  that,  in  dealing  with  it,  temporally  or  spir- 
itually, each  would  precisely  invert  the  rules  of  the 
other.  Whatever  the  one  delights  to  disparage  pre- 
sents the  favorite  views  of  the  other ;  the  ideas  which 
the  one  has  lived  to  expel,  it  is  the  highest  ambition 
of  the  other  to  restore ;  and  the  lessons  from  Scrip- 
ture, from  history,  from  science,  from  reflection,  which 
constitute  the  characteristic  wisdom  of  the  one,  are 
present  to  the  other  as  a  never-failing  stock-on-hand 
of  fallacies  and  follies. 

Mr.  Ward  maintains  the  world  to  have  been  pre- 
pared for  a  divine  revelation  by  the  inextinguishable 
activity  of  conscience;  which  has  power,  even  where 
connected  with  a  feeble  will,  to  maintain  a  secret 
sense  of  danger,  or,  possibly,  an  ineffectual  sadness 
of  aspiration.  He  lays  the  greatest  stress  on  the 
truths  of  Natural  Religion  and  the  obligations  of 
Natural  Law :  and  regards  Christianity  as  through- 
out assuming  these,  and  furnishing  their  supernatu- 


112  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

ral  complement.  The  Church  is  an  institution  set 
up  for  the  divine  guidance  of  men  ;  to  alarm,  to 
counsel,  to  encourage  them,  to  a  moral  obedience,  of 
which,  without  such  heavenly  aid,  they  will  only 
have  a  distant  and  passing  dream.  Her  title  to 
afford  this  guidance  must  be  sought,  not  in  any  mere 
external  credentials,  but  in  her  self-evidencing  power 
to  the  conscience.  Hence  her  discipline  must  begin 
with  simply  taking  up  the  disciple's  existing  concep- 
tion of  duty,  and  effecting  its  realization  in  his  life ; 
and  for  the  acknowledgment  of  her  higher  laws,  the 
admission  of  her  doctrines,  and  the  adoption  of  her 
characteristic  methods  of  worship,  she  must  rely  on 
the  enlargement  of  moral  perception  and  enrichment 
of  spiritual  knowledge  which  the  habits  of  a  holy 
life  invariably  bring.  What,  now,  is  the  nature  of 
the  institution  to  which  so  great  a  work  is  as- 
signed ?  It  consists  of  a  sacerdotal  order,  holding 
a  mediatorial  position  between  a  Holy  God  and  a 
sinful  world ;  intrusted  with  certain  mystic  media, 
through  which  alone  a  reconciling  grace  can  pass ; 
and  dispensing  the  heavenly  guidance  to  those  ex- 
clusively who  will  accept  the  sacramental  rites. 
Thus  there  is  no  communion  possible  between  the 
human  conscience  and  Divine  Spirit  except  through 
the  appointed  priesthood ;  the  whole  work  and  strife 
of  penitence,  of  aspiration,  of  duty,  throughout  the 
earth,  is  without  a  benediction  unless  offered  through 
them.  Their  office  is  not  simply  spiritual,  —  i.  e.  to 
deal,  by  the  methods  of  earnest  wisdom,  with  the 
spirit  or  moral  reason  of  man ;  but  superhuman  and 
M/i-spiritual,  —  to  hold  and  to  distribute  certain  physi- 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  113 

cat  conditions  of  sanctity,  of  which  they  are  deposi- 
taries, not  from  the  purity  of  their  affections,  the 
clearness  of  their  discernment,  and  the  faithfulness 
of  their  wills,  but  from  their  standing  in  an  un- 
broken line  of  ordination,  reaching  through  the  bodies 
of  bishops  to  the  Apostolic  age.  In  addition,  how- 
ever, to  their  supernatural  function  of  dispensing  or 
withholding  the  cftvine  grace  and  forgiveness,  they 
have  natural  duties  of  counsel,  warning,  and  com- 
passion to  perform.  Members  of  a  corporate  com- 
munity, which  has  gathered  to  it  for  eighteen  centu- 
ries the  moral  experience  of  saintly  men,  and  whose 
archives  contain  a  record  of  every  temptation  and 
sorrow  that  can  befall,  and  every  conquest  that  can 
ennoble,  the  human  heart,  they  have  access  to  the 
wisdom  of  ages,  and  are  trained  in  such  familiarity 
with  its  stores  as  to  derive  from  it  the  discipline  and 
rules  suited  to  every  new  emergency.  In  the  private 
confessional  they  must  watch  and  guide  the  indi- 
vidual conscience :  in  public  convocation,  estimate 
the  duty  of  classes,  regulate  the  usages  of  profes- 
sions, and  pronounce  on  the  moralities  of  empire. 
Their  duties  have  an  immense  range  over  the  morals, 
the  discipline,  the  thought,  the  government  of  so- 
ciety. In  morals  they  have  a  negative  office,  as  the 
stern  representatives  of  the  divine  abhorrence  of 
evil :  and  must  proclaim  the  hatefulness  of  sin  by 
denying  the  communion,  not  only  to  open  transgres- 
sors, but  to  the  idolaters  of  wealth  and  the  uncon- 
scious slaves  of  low  and  unspiritual  desires;  by 
excluding  from  the  education  of  the  young  every 
thing  at  variance  with  the  tastes  of  a  holy  mind ;  by 
10* 


114  MAHTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

falling  on  the  neck  of  each  softened  transgressor, 
and  committing  him  instantly  to  the  seclusion  of 
some  sacred  retreat ;  by  the  direct  training  of  saints, 
and  holding  up  in  visible  contrast  with  the  prevalent 
pursuit  of  earthly  shadows  an  order  of  men  wholly 
dedicated  to  heavenly  realities.  To  this  must  suc- 
ceed the  positive  task  of  watching  over  the  duty  of 
Christians  in  the  two  related  particulars  of  faith  and 
obedience;  preserving  perfect  uniformity  of  language, 
without  the  slightest  allowance  of  individual  dis- 
cretion, in  the  statement  of  doctrine  ;  constantly  pre- 
senting the  historical  Christ  of  the  Gospels  to  the 
people  as  their  God,  who  created  them  one  by  one, 
who  is  closely  present  with  them,  and  knows  their 
thoughts ;  and  habituating  them  daily  to  the  phrases 
expressive  of  the  two  great  truths  of  Revelation,  — 
"  Three  Persons,  one  God,"  — "  One  Person,  two 
Natures."  As  a  disciplinary  institution,  the  Church 
must  not  only  provide  a  sublime  and  beautiful  ritual, 
"  such  as  the  Spirit  himself  has  suggested  to  the  be- 
loved bride  of  Christ,"  but  must  adapt  her  methods 
of  influence  with  versatile  skill  to  the  several  classes 
of  society.  The  poor  are  her  especial  charge,  to 
whom  she  must  never  rest  till  full  justice  has  been 
done.  Such  of  their  employments  as  are  incom- 
patible with  the  Christian  life  she  must  detect  and 
prohibit.  Their  oppressors,  however  powerful,  must 
be  sternly  denounced.  Their  day  of  rest  must  be 
guarded,  and  refreshed  by  a  religious  ceremonial  in- 
vested with  every  beauty  that  may  touch  and  solem- 
nize their  hearts.  The  rich,  too,  must  be  warned  of 
their  temptations,  not  only  by  direct  resistance  and 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  .          115 

reproof  to  the  desire  of  wealth,  but  by  examples  of 
cheerful  and  voluntary  poverty.  And  the  educated 
must  be  saved  from  the  dangers  of  corrupt  admira- 
tions and  a  mere  diabolical  acuteness,  by  imparting 
in  early  life  the  Catholic  rather  than  the  Classical 
idea  of  heroism ;  and  throughout  his  course  keeping 
the  student  closely  implicated  in  habit  with  the  dis- 
cipline and  offices  of  the  Church. 

Perhaps  the  hardest  task  imposed  by  Mr.  Ward 
upon  his  Church  is,  to  maintain -supremacy  over  the 
thought  of  society.  For  this  end  he  requires  her  to 
create  a  new  literature  and  philosophy,  antagonistic 
to  that  which,  he  complains,  the  spread  and  advance- 
ment of  knowledge  has  put  into  the  hands  of  un- 
believers. She  must  find  a  way  of  prevailing  over 
the  apparent  results  of  the  modern  criticism  and 
exegesis;  must  relieve  the  Old  Testament  of  the 
difficulties  with  which  historical  research  painfully 
oppresses  it ;  must  harmonize  the  Hebrew  cosmogo- 
ny with  the  discoveries  of  modern  science ;  and,  in 
order  to  guide  the  reaction  against  the  infidel  phi- 
losophy of  the  last  century,  must  produce  a  new  sys- 
tem of  metaphysics,  capable  of  coping  with  the 
subtlety  of  Protestant  analysis,  and  of  giving  a  sci- 
entific basis  to  the  Catholic  system.  Finally,  the 
influence  of  the  Church  over  the  body  politic  must  be 
obtained,  not  by  aspiring  to  the  direct  administration 
of  State  affairs,  but  by  proclaiming  the  application 
of  Christian  principles  to  political  government;  by 
denouncing  State  sins;  by  guiding  the  popular 
eagerness  for  redress.  Nor  are  more  positive  inter- 
positions to  be  avoided.  Rules  must  be  made  for 


116  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

almsgiving,  to  correct  the  cold-hearted  morality  of 
,  economists.  It  must  be  authoritatively  settled  what 
causes  a  barrister  may  plead,  —  what  books  a  book- 
seller may  distribute.  And  above  all,  the  education 
of  the  people  must  be  undertaken  by  the  Church, 
and  a  subsequent  control  over  their  habits  be  main- 
tained, with  a  special  view  to  counteract  the  evils, 
mental  and  moral,  arising  from  the  excessive  division 
of  labor.  All  these  duties  devolve  upon  ecclesiastics, 
not  by  delegation .  from  the  State,  but  by  super- 
natural appointment  from  God.  Their  long  neglect 
is  to  be  deplored  with  a  greater  sorrow  than  for  any 
unfaithfulness  towards  men :  and  they  are  to  be 
resumed  with  the  consciousness  of  an  authority 
above  the  law. 

From  this  imperfect  sketch  of  Mr.  Ward's  "  Ideal," 
it  will  be  evident  that,  with  him,  the  Church  is  con- 
stituted wherever  the  clergy  exist :  that  its  origin  is 
higher  than  that  of  society,  and  its  rights  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  consentaneous  will  of  men ;  that  the 
sphere  of  its  power  is  coextensive  with  human  life, 
and  embraces,  therefore,  the  whole  range  of  the 
State's  activity ;  that  it  may  not,  unless  through  the 
law,  enforce  its  claims  by  the  temporal  sword,  but 
may  cut  off  offenders  from  communion  with  divine 
mercy  ;  may  "  declare  war  in  the  name  of  the  Lord 
against  wickedness  in  high  worldly  places,  and  draw 
the  spiritual  sword  which  has  so  long  rusted  in  its 
scabbard."  (p.  437.) 

We  know  of  no  living  writer,  of  any  reputation 
as  a  thinker,  who  has  proved  so  little,  and  disproved 
so  much,  as  Archbishop  Whately.  And  on  no  one 


CHURCH    AND    STATE. 


117 


of  his  works  is  his  negative  mode  of  treatment  more 
impressed  than  on  the  Essay  now  before  us.  We 
close  it  with  the  clearest  knowledge  of  what  the 
kingdom  of  Christ  is  not;  of  the  powers  which  its 
ministers  must  disown ;  of  the  purposes  they  can- 
not serve ;  of  the  spurious  origin  of  almost  every 
thing  that  occurs  to  the  mind  when  the  Church  sys- 
tem is  spoken  of,  catechisms,  creeds,  articles,  liturgy, 
sacramental  forms,  ordination,  rubrics,  canons,  and 
episcopacy  itself.  But  of  any  high  and  holy  ends 
worthy  of  a  divine  institution ;  of  any  principle  of 
unity  connecting  its  parts  into  a  spiritual  whole ;  of 
the  nature  of  the  vital  activity  which  should  pervade 
the  organism  of  the  Church,  and  its  relation  to  the 
other  forces  which  determine  the  phenomena  of 
society,  —  the  faintest  possible  conception  is  given. 
As  the  temple,  with  its  metropolitan  priesthood,  is 
the  type  of  Mr.  Ward's  Church ;  so  is  the  municipal 
synagogue,  with  its  lay  officers,  of  Dr.  Whately's. 
Our  Lord  determined  to  gather  his  disciples  after 
his  departure  into  local  societies.  In  the  constitu- 
tion of  these,  the  practice  of  the  synagogue  was 
naturally  followed:  for  there  it  was  that  the  Apos- 
tolic missionaries  first  sought  a  hearing :  and  if  they 
failed  to  convince  the  majority  of  the  assembly,  so 
that  the  synagogue  became  a  church,  the  converted 
minority,  on  their  secession,  followed  in  their  new 
combination  the  model  with  which  they  were  fa- 
miliar. Hence  in  the  earliest  Christian  communi- 
ties, the  deacons,  the  presbyters,  the  bishops,  had  like 
duties  with  the  officers  of  the  same  designation  in  a 
Jewish  association  of  worshippers.  The  effect  of 


118  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

this  statement  on  the  pretensions  of  the  ecclesiastical 
body  is  evident.  The  several  societies  of  disciples 
may  claim  a  direct  sanction  from  Christ,  since  he 
distinctly  provided  for  their  formation ;  but  he  took 
no  notice  of  the  functionaries  who  were  to  admin- 
ister their  affairs ;  and  that  they  exist  at  all,  arises 
only  from  the  wants  and  convenience  of  the  associa- 
tions which  they  represent ;  every  society  having  its 
officers,  its  rules,  its  terms  of  membership.  And  as  for 
the  particular  nature  of  the  offices  thus  created,  that 
grew  naturally  out  of  an  historical  antecedent  which 
cannot  possibly  impart  to  it  any  superhuman  authori- 
ty :  for,  whatever  obscurity  hangs  over  the  origin  of 
the  Hebrew  synagogues,  they  certainly  cannot  be 
referred  to  the  Mosaic  law,  or  to  any  causes  higher 
than  the  human  will.  Hence  a  Church  is  a  "  con- 
gregation of  faithful  men,"  to  which  the  clergyman 
is  but  an  appendage,  with  title  depending  on  his 
being  the  "  regularly  appointed  officer  of  a  regular 
Christian  community."  Each  society,  moreover,  is 
as  wholly  independent  of  the  rest,  as  the  synagogue 
of  Athens  from  that  of  Caesarea ;  connected  indeed 
by  sympathy,  and  at  liberty  to  establish  a  federal 
combination  with  others ;  but  no  longer  bound  by 
such  organization,  when  it  fails  to  accomplish  its 
appointed  end.  The  Church  has  accordingly  no 
unity  but  in  name ;  it  is  wholly  provincial,  and  has 
no  visible  head,  either  individual  or  collective.  And 
whatever  range  of  discretion  may  be  left  as  to  the 
functions  of  the  clergy,  one  thing  is  absolutely  ex- 
cluded by  the  very  religion  which  they  serve :  they 
have  no  templar  and  sacerdotal  duties,  can  offer  no 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  119 

sacrifice,  absolve  from  no  sin,  and  stand  between  no 
man  and  his  God.  And  even  in  the  prosecution  of 
its  legitimate  ends,  the  Church  must  wholly  abstain 
from  secular  coercion,  as  an  encroachment  on  the 
"  things  that  are  Caesar's,"  and  alien  to  the  spirit  of 
a  religion  whose  "  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world." 
All  temporal  sanctions  are  replaced  in  Christian 
societies  by  the  sanctions  of  the  world  to  come. 
This  it  is  which,  according  to  Archbishop  Whately, 
constitutes  the  spirituality  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ. 
We  must  protest,  in  passing,  against  this  prevalent 
but  gross  abuse  of  the  word  spiritual.  It  does  not 
denote  a  mere  far-sighted  self-interest,  in  opposition 
to  the  narrow  calculations  of  a  worldly  mind ;  but 
is  the  name  of  a  higher  order  of  motive  than  any 
prudence,  long  or  short.  Action  which  proceeds 
from  personal  hope  or  fear  is  wholly  unspiritual : 
the  nearness  or  remoteness  of  the  pleasure  or  pain 
contemplated  does  not  alter  the  moral  quality,  but 
only  the  sagacity,  of  the  agent's  determination :  he 
makes  an  investment,  in  the  one  case  for  a  quick 
return,  in  the  other  giving  credit  on  good  security ; 
in  both  the  transaction  is  strictly  mercantile.  Were 
this  the  difference  between  the  foundation  of  the 
State  and  that  of  the  Church,  then  political  society 
would  be  like  a  partnership  for  prosecuting  a  home 
trade  with  cash  payments ;  while  Christian  society 
would  resemble  a  joint-stock  company  for  colonizing 
some  antipodal  region,  that,  after  the  judicious  out- 
lay of  years,  might  yield,  not  the  profits  of  a  shop, 
but  the  revenue  of  a  commonwealth.  It  is  the  re- 
mark of  Coleridge,  that,  whether  a  "  man  expects  the 


120  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

auto  da  fe,  the  fire  and  fagots,  with  which  he  is 
threatened,  to  take  place  at  Lisbon  or  Smithfield,  or 
in  some  dungeon  in  the  centre  of  the  earth,  makes 
no  difference  in  the  kind  of  motive  by  which  he  is  in- 
fluenced ;  nor  of  course  in  the  nature  of  the  power 
which  acts  on  his  passions  by  means  of  it."  *  That 
influence  alone  is  spiritual  which  awakens  the  con- 
sciousness of  obligation  and  the  sentiments  of  wor- 
ship. 

To  sum  up,  then,  the  leading  particulars  of  Arch- 
bishop Whately's  theory.  The  end  of  the  Church 
is  to  enforce  the  moral  law,  as  recognized  among 
Christians,  by  the  sanctions  of  a  future  life.  The 
end  of  the  State  is  the  protection  of  person  and 
property  by  the  use  of  temporal  sanctions.  In  both 
cases  the  institutions  derive  their  existence  from  the 
component  members,  over  whom  the  functionaries 
have  no  authority  beyond  that  which  belongs  to  reg- 
ular official  appointment.  And  all  questions  as  to 
the  internal  organization  of  the  Church,  the  mode 
of  supporting  its  cost,  and  of  adjusting  its  relations 
to  the  secular  governmept,  are  open  to  determination 
by  regard  to  expediency,  provided  coercion,  priest- 
hood, and  a  visible  head  be  altogether  disclaimed. 

In  one  important  respect  Dr.  Arnold  occupies  an 
intermediate  position  between  the  two  writers  al- 
ready noticed.  In  his  design  of  a  Church  Mr.  Ward 
labors  for  Christendom,  Archbishop  Whately  for  a 
congregation,  Arnold  for  a  nation.  The  Christians 
of  this  realm  constitute,  in  the  view  of  the  first,  only 

*  Church  and  State,  p.  134. 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  121 

an  integrant  part  of  one  vast  civitas,  conscious  of  its 
unity ;  in  that  of  the  second,  an  aggregate  of  partic- 
ular communities,  forming  together  a  local  societas, 
unconscious  of  its  unity,  but  collected  into  a  class  by 
observers  from  without ;  in  that  of  the  third,  one  en- 
tire and  independent  civitas  among  many  within  the 
wide  circuit  of  the  Christian  societas  throughout  the 
world.  This  peculiarity,  like  every  other  in  Arnold's 
theory,  is  singularly  expressive  of  the  character  of 
his  mind.  It  was  not  simply  his  historical  taste,  or 
his  love  of  Aristotle,  that  led  him  to  identify  the 
functions  of  Church  and  State,  and  seek  in  Chris- 
tianity the  bond  of  citizenship  to  replace  the  an- 
cient ties  of  race.  Hooker,  so  induced,  had  done  the 
same;  —  with  the  significant  difference,  that  he  nei- 
ther hated  a  priesthood,  nor  appreciated  the  Puritans. 
Arnold's  all-prevailing  moral  nature  made  him  seize 
with  avidity,  from  every  age,  all  the  securities  for  hu- 
man duty  which  genius  had  devised  or  inspiration 
imparted ;  and  reject  with  indignation  every  coun- 
terfeit pretending  to  do  the  sterling  work  of  a  re- 
sponsible will.  He  could  not,  for  all  his  faith  in 
revelation,  forego  one  jot  of  the  ancient  reverence  for 
law;  or,  for  all  his  high  doctrine  of  obedience,  allow 
the  priest  to  touch  with  one  of  his  fingers  the  bur- 
den of  individual  obligation.  He  would  save  gov- 
ernment from  degenerating  into  police,  and  Chris- 
tianity into  conjuring ;  and  he  had  an  unconquerable 
aversion  to  accept  the  constable  as  representative  of 
the  State,  or  the  bishop  of  the  Church.  Both  in- 
stitutions were  to  him  but  incorporated  expressions 
of  the  conscience  of  their  members  ; —  the  one  of  its 
11 


122  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

executive  energy,  the  other  of  its  meditative  aspira- 
tions ;  neither,  therefore,  having  an  aim  less  or  more 
comprehensive  than  the  other;  neither  complete  and 
healthy  without  the  other ;  and  requiring,  in  order  to 
effectuate  the  ends  of  either,  their  coalescence  into  a 
living  unity.  The  "  Fragment  on  the  Church  "  con- 
tends, no  less  strenuously  and  successfully  than  the 
"  Essay  on  the  Kingdom  of  Christ,"  against  a  sacer- 
dotal system,  and  subordinates  the  ministry  to  the 
"  congregation  of  faithful  men " :  yet  with  the  dif- 
ference that  Dr.  Whately  seems  to  be  stripping  the 
clergy  of  their  pretensions ;  Dr.  Arnold,  to  be  distrib- 
uting to  the  laity  their  duties  :  the  one,  impatient  for 
the  abatement  of  nonsense ;  the  other,  unhappy  at 
the  usurpation  of  a  trust.  Apart,  however,  from  this 
characteristic  difference  of  feeling,  there  is  a  perfect 
accordance  between  the  two  friends  in  their  nega- 
tive conclusions,  as  to  the  internal  constitution  of 
the  Church.  Nothing  whatever,  according  to  Ar- 
nold, is  instituted,  except  that  the  disciples  shall  form 
themselves  into  communities,  for  mutual  help  in  du- 
ty, in  the  same  way  as  mere  society  is  an  aid  in  civ- 
ilization. It  is  a  thing  authoritatively  settled,  that 
there  shall  be  this  divine  polity  of  cooperation,  for 
bringing  the  faith  of  Christ  to  the  masses  of  men, 
and  remedying  the  extent  of  the  Fall,  as  individual 
devotedness  countervails  its  intensity.  But  as  to  the 
modes  by  which  this  association  shall  conduct  its 
contest  against  moral  evil,  and  the  scheme  of  or- 
ganization by  which  its  parts  shall  be  maintained  in 
active  unity,  all  is  left  open  to  the  discretion  of  suc- 
cessive ages.  On  this  point  his  language  is  most 
unqualified :  — 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  123 

"  In  matters  of  doctrine,  an  opinion,  however  unimpor- 
tant, is  either  true  or  false  ;  and  if  false,  he  who  holds  it  is 
in  error,  although  the  error  may  be  so  practically  indif- 
ferent as  to  be  of  no  account  in  our  estimate  of  the  men. 
But  in  matters  of  government,  I  hold  that  there  is  actually  no 
right  and  no  wrong.  Viewed  in  the  large,  as  they  are  seen 
in  India,  and  when  abstracted  from  the  questions  of  particu- 
lar countries,  I  hold  that  one  form  of  Church  government  is 
exactly  as  much  according  to  Christ's  will  as  another ;  nay, 
I  consider  such  questions  as  so  indifferent,  that,  if  I  thought 
the  government  of  my  neighbor's  Church  better  than  my 
own,  I  yet  would  not,  unless  the  case  were  very  strong, 
leave  my  Church  for  his,  because  habits,  associations,  and 
all  those  minor  ties  which  ought  to  burst  asunder  before  a 
great  call,  are  yet  of  more  force,  I  think,  than  a  difference 
between  Episcopacy  and  Presbytery,  unless  one  be  very 
good  of  its  kind,  and  the  other  very  bad."  —  Life,  Vol.  II. 
p.  105. 

The  only  material  point  on  which  Arnold  dissent- 
ed from  the  opinions  expressed  in  Whately's  Es- 
says was  the  right  of  the  Church  to  wield  the  tem- 
poral sword.  And  this,  as  it  appears  to  us,  was  a 
difference  more  in  words  than  in  reality,  and  re- 
solved itself  into  the  question,  whether  the  power 
which  enforced  the  laws  in  a  Christian  country 
should  be  called  the  State  or  the  Church.  Arnold 
was  as  far  as  his  friend  from  claiming  coercive  pre- 
rogatives for  either  ecclesiastical  officers  or  worship- 
ping assemblies :  all  judicial  and  executive  authority 
he  would  leave  where  now  it  rests:  only  he  would 
regard  the  functionaries  who  exercise  it  as  deputed, 
not  by  the  material  interests,  but  by  the  moral  sense 
of  the  community,  and  standing  for  the  law  of 


124  MARTINEAU'S  MISCELLANIES. 

Christ  by  which  all  are  bound.  This  ascription  of  a 
sacred  character  to  authorized  and  constitutional  rul- 
ers is  all  that  Arnold  meant  by  his  desire  to  make 
"  the  Church  a  sovereign  society."  He  wanted,  not 
more  power  to  the  Church,  but  a  more  Christian  tem- 
per to  the  State.  He  could  not  endure  that  any 
part  of  life  should  escape  the  reach  of  obligation; 
that  the  process  of  social  organization  should  be 
thought  to  give  rise,  at  any  step,  to  relations  exempt 
from  moral  inspection  ;  that  any  voluntary  deeds 
between  citizen  and  citizen,  between  subjects  and 
rulers,  between  the  commonwealth  and  foreign  states, 
should  be  treated  as  less  amenable  to  the  divine  rule 
of  conscience,  than  the  private  conduct  which  is 
abandoned  wholly  to  its  sway.  Hence  he  was  im- 
patient of  the  false  distinction  between  "  secular " 
and  "  spiritual  "  things ;  under  cover  of  which  he  be- 
lieved that  countless  questionable  ways  of  thought 
and  act  passed  without  a  just  verdict,  or  even  an  in- 
quiring challenge,  and  whole  provinces  of  life  were 
ceded  as  irreclaimable  for  Christian  cultivation.  He 
felt  how  untruly  this  distinction  presents  the  real 
difference  between  the  pursuit  of  physical  and  that  of 
moral  good,  as  if  they  were  each  a  separate  business, 
to  be  achieved  in  society  by  different  agents,  in  indi- 
viduals by  different  acts.  As  in  the  case  of  private 
persons  there  are  not  two  sets  of  employments,  one 
irresponsibly  abandoned  to  the  natural  desires,  the 
other  the  exclusive  realm  of  duty;  but  moral  good 
consists  in  the  regulated  pursuit  of  natural  good  ac- 
cording to  a  divine  and  holy  law :  so  in  communi- 
ties there  are  not  two  spheres  of  work  and  office, 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  125 

one  with  only  physical  ends,  the  other  with  only 
spiritual ;  but  all  parts  of  the  body  politic  must 
serve  one  supreme  intent,  viz.  that  the  whole  natural 
life  of  society  shall  also  be  a  moral  life.  Arnold,  ac- 
cordingly, with  adventurous  nobleness,  insisted  on 
carrying  the  Christian  standard  through  every  depart- 
ment of  the  state :  sovereign  and  council,  judges  and 
ministers,  legislators  and  magistrates,  were  to  regard 
themselves  as  functionaries  of  a  Christian  church. 
Nay,  he  did  not  shrink  from  applying  his  principle 
to  the  province  of  government  most  difficult  to  re- 
duce under  the  rule  of  truth,  honesty,  and  justice, — 
we  mean,  the  foreign  relations  of  the  commonwealth. 
He  had  no  idea  of  leaving,  in  diplomacy,  a  privileged 
nest  of  retreat  for  chicanery  and  fraud;  or  in  war 
itself,  a  licensed  escape  from  moral  obligation.  In  all 
questions  between  nation  and  nation,  in  the  con- 
duct of  all  disputes,  and  the  resistance  of  aggres- 
sion, there  actually  exists  a  right  and  a  wrong :  and 
is  it  for  Christian  men  to  throw  up  these  things  in 
confusion  and  despair,  and  bid  conscience  turn  the 
back  till  they  have  scrambled  through  a  crisis  they 
cannot  manage  by  her  rules?  He  was  not  to  be 
scared,  therefore,  by  any  amount  of  Machiavellian 
practice,  from  including  ambassadors,  army,  and  na- 
vy in  the  staff  of  his  national  Church.  They  were 
all  instruments  in  that  contest  with  moral  evil,  and 
pressure  towards  the  highest  good,  which  formed  the 
true  tpyov  of  every  Christian  community,  and  must 
share  alike  the  responsibility  and  the  dignity  of  their 
association  with  such  a  work.  Arnold  would  have 
heartily  adopted  his  favorite  Aristotle's  estimate  of 
11* 


126  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  religious  character  of  wise  and  thoughtful  sway, 
when  he  identified  the  rule  of  reason  and  law  in 
states  with  the  authority  of  God,  and  said  that,  to  al- 
low scope  for  the  unregulated  will  of  governors,  was 
to  give  power  to  the  brute.*  Of  this  sentiment,  in- 
deed, the  following  passage  from  the  "  Fragment"  is 
little  more  than  a  Christian  amplification  :  — 

"  It  is  obvious  that,  the  object  of  Christian  society  being 
thus  extensive,  and  relating  not  to  ritual  observances,  but 
to  the  improvement  of  the  whole  of  our  life,  the  natural 
and  fit  state  of  the  Church  is,  that  it  should  be  a  sovereign 
society  or  commonwealth  ;  as  long  as  it  is  subordinate  and 
municipal,  it  cannot  fully  carry  its  purposes  into  effect.  This 
will  be  evident,  if  we  consider  that  law  and  government 
are  the  sovereign  influences  on  human  society  ;  that  they 
in  the  last  resort  shape  and  control  it  at  their  pleasure  ;  that 
institutions  depend  on  them,  and  are  by  them  formed  and 
modified  ;  that  what  they  sanction  will  ever  be  generally 
considered  innocent  ;  that  what  they  condemn  is  thereby 
made  a  crime,  and  if  persisted  in  becomes  rebellion  ;  and 
that  those  who  hold  in  their  hands  the  power  of  life  and 
death  must  be  able  greatly  to  obstruct  the  progress  of 
whatever  they  disapprove  of;  and  those  who  dispose  of  all 
the  honors  and  rewards  of  society  must,  in  the  same  way, 
be  greatly  able  to  advance  whatever  they  think  excellent. 
So  long,  then,  as  the  sovereign  society  is  not  Christian,  and 
the  Church  is  not  sovereign,  we  have  two  powers  alike  de- 
signed to  act  upon  the  whole  of  our  being,  but  acting  often 
in  opposition  to  each  other.  Of  these  powers,  the  one  has 


*  'O  p(V  ovv  TOV  vovv  KeAeuow  ap%fiv  SoKei  KfXfvav  ap%eiv  TOV 
Qtbv  KOI  TOVS  vopovs,  6  8'  avdpanrov  Kf\eva>v  TTpocm'^cri  Kal  drjpiov. 
—  Polit.  III.  16. 


CHURCH   AND    STATE.  127 

wisdom,  the  other  external  force  and  influence  ;  and  from 
the  division  of  these  things,  which  ought  ever  to  go  together, 
the  wisdom  of  the  Church  cannot  carry  into  effect  the  truths 
which  it  sees  and  loves ;  whilst  the  power  of  government, 
not  being  guided  by  wisdom,  influences  society  for  evil 
rather  than  for  good.  The  natural  and  true  state  of  things 
then  is,  that  this  power  and  this  wisdom  should  be  united : 
that  human  life  should  not  be  pulled  to  pieces  between  two 
claimants,  each  pretending  to  exercise  control  over  it,  not 
in  some  particular  portion,  but  universally  ;  that  wisdom 
should  be  armed  with  power,  power  guided  by  wisdom  ; 
that  the  Christian  Church  should  have  no  external  force  to 
thwart  its  beneficent  purposes ;  that  government  should  not 
be  poisoned  by  its  internal  ignorance  or  wickedness,  and 
thus  advance  the  cause  of  God's  enemy,  rather  than  per- 
form the  part  of  God's  vicegerent."  — Ch.  I.  p.  10. 

It  is  impossible,  in  reading  this  passage,  not  to  be 
reminded  of  the  well-known  saying  of  Plato,  that 
there  can  be  no  cessation  of  ills  to  states,  or,  gener- 
ally, to  the  human  race,  unless  either  philosophers 
become  their  kings,  or  their  so-called  kings  and  rulers 
become  true  philosophers  ;  and  unless  such  a  coales- 
cence takes  place  between  political  power  and  philo- 
sophic wisdom,  that  natures  devoted  to  either,  at  the 
expense  of  the  other,  are  for  the  most  part  expressly 
excluded  from  public  affairs.*  To  Arnold,  "  so  natu- 

*  'Ecu/  p.f)  f/  ol  <j)t\6cro<f)oi  ftairAsvowtnf  tv  rat?  TroXecriv,  rj  ol 
/SewriXijff  Tf  vvv  \cyop.(voi  KOI  bwdcrrai  ^uXocro^jjaaxri  yvr)crla>s  re 
Kal  iicavtos,  Kal  TOVTO  tls  ravrov  f-vnTTfcrt),  Suva/it's  re  iroKiTiKr/  Kal 
(f)i\o(ro(f)ia,  T£>V  8e  vvv  Tropfvofj-fvav ,  x&pls  e(f>'  (Kartpov  at  TroXXcu 
(fri/vets  «'£'  avayKTjS  a.TroKXfi.<rd<a<Tiv,  ov<  eari  Aca/ccoi/  TraOXa,  &  <p!Xc 
rXauKtoj',  rais  TroXecri,  fioKai  Se  ov8e  T<5  dvdpamivo)  ytvei, — De  Rep. 
V.  c.  18. 


128  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

ral  was  the  union  of  religion  with  justice,  that  (he 
thought)  we  may  boldly  deem  there  is  neither,  where 
both  are  not."  *  And  he  held  to  the  conclusion  so 
impressively  stated  by  Hooker :  — 

"  Seeing,  therefore,  it  doth  thus  appear  that  the  safety  of 
all  estates  dependeth  upon  religion  ;  that  religion  unfeign- 
edly  loved  perfecteth  men's  abilities  unto  all  kinds  of  virtu- 
ous services  in  the  commonwealth;  that  men's  desire  in 
general  is  to  hold  no  religion  but  the  true  ;  and  that  what- 
soever good  effects  do  grow  out  of  their  religion  who  em- 
brace, instead  of  the  true  a  false,  the  roots  thereof  are 
sparks  of  the  light  of  truth,  intermingled  with  the  darkness 
of  error,  —  because  no  religion  can  wholly  and  only  con- 
sist of  untruths,  —  we  have  reason  to  think  that  all  true 
virtues  are  to  honor  true  religion  as  their  parent,  and  all 
well-ordered  commonweals  to  love  her  as  their  chiefest 
stay."  —  Eccl.  Pol,  B.  5,  §  1. 

The  views  of  Arnold,  as  to  the  perfect  identity  of 
aim  in  Church  and  State,  set  him  directly  at  vari- 
ance with  the  philosophy  of  his  political  party,  and 
the  theology  of  his  ecclesiastical  order.  He  could 
keep  no  terms  with  Warburton's  principle,  generally 
received  by  the  Whigs,  that  — 

"  It  was  the  care  of  the  bodies,  not  the  souls,  of  men 
that  the  magistrate  undertook  to  give  account  of.  Whatever, 
therefore,  refers  to  the  body  is  in  his  jurisdiction  ;  whatever 
to  the  soul  is  not."  —  Alliance  between  Church  and  State, 
B.  1,  Ch.  4. 

He  maintained  that,  if  this  were  so,  the  State 
could  not  be  a  "  sovereign  society " ;  inasmuch  as 
there  would  be  interests  above  its  reach,  and  exempt 

*  Hooker's  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  B.  5,  §  1. 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  129 

from  its  command  ;  and  that,  as  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  spiritual  good,  which,  in  the  form  of  personal  per- 
fection, constitutes  the  highest  end  of  individuals, 
so  can  nothing  less  than  this  good,  in  the  form  of  a 
moral  civilization,  present  a  true  aim  for  the  col- 
lective will  of  a  community.  He  therefore  regarded 
every  thing  as  within  the  province  of  the  State, 
which  might  elevate  the  life  of  its  people ;  and  held 
it  the  duty  of  government  to  provide  for  their  edu- 
cation, to  afford  expression  for  their  worship,  to 
superintend  the  construction  of  their  dwellings  and 
the  organization  of  their  towns,  and  to  control,  with 
a  view  to  moral  results,  the  distribution  of  employ- 
ments which  might  arise  from  the  unrestrained  op- 
eration of  economical  laws.  While  he  separated 
himself  thus  from  "  the  liberals,"  by  asserting  for  the 
commonwealth  higher  aims  than  corporeal,  he  stood 
almost  alone  among  ecclesiastics  in  denying  to 
Christianity  any  function  that  was  ritual.  Religion 
and  government  met  on  the  common  ground  of 
moral  life,  —  the  life  of  responsible  man,  not  of  a 
sentient  creature  on  the  one  hand,  or  of  a  magi- 
cal saint  on  the  other.  In  short,  from  both  ex- 
tremities he  dismissed  all  physical  ends,  simply  as 
such ;  whether  of  the  zoological  kind,  giving  animal 
ease  for  this  world,  or  of  the  theological  kind,  pro- 
viding an  enchanted  safety  for  the  next.  His  theory 
would  have  been  complete  and  self-consistent,  if  he 
could  have  adhered  to  his  conception  of  the  purely 
moral  character  of  Christianity ;  and  asked  for  no 
more,  in  his  definition  of  a  disciple,  than  a  certain 
state  of  the  conscience  and  affections.  But  this  was 


130  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

impossible.  Dealing  with  the  Newmanites,  he  boldly 
vindicates  a  spiritual  Gospel  against  a  ceremonial. 
Dealing  with  Unitarians,  he  cannot  allow  a  spiritual 
Gospel  against  a  doctrinal.  And  were  it  even  other- 
wise, the  difficulty  of  managing  this  new  ingredient 
of  belief  cannot  be  overcome.  Do  what  you  will  to 
give  exclusive  prominence  to  the  moral  element  of 
Christianity,  still,  when  all  that  is  "sacramental"  is 
cancelled,  and  the  minimum  of  creed  is  spared,  it 
does  not  become  identical  with  the  law  of  con- 
science ;  it  requires  assent  to  some  things  not  neces- 
sarily obvious  to  every  man  of  good  and  honest 
heart;  there  is  yet  a  residue  of  certain  historical 
propositions  to  be  embraced,  to  impose  which  as  a 
condition  of  citizenship  is  certainly  to  exceed  your 
prerogative  as  guardian  of  the  moral  life  of  the 
community.  Arnold  did  not  shrink  from  the  prac- 
tical consequences  of  his  own  scheme ;  he  strenu- 
ously advocated  the  application  of  a  theological  test 
as  a  means  of  discriminating  aliens  from  citizens ; 
he  resisted  the  removal  of  the  Jewish  disabilities; 
he  wished  to  enforce  a  Scriptural  examination  in  the 
London  University ;  he  "  would  thank  Parliament 
for  having  done  away  with  distinctions  between 
Christian  and  Christian,"  but  "  would  pray  that  dis- 
tinctions be  kept  up  between  Christians  and  non- 
Christians."  *  He  struggled  hard,  but,  in  our  opinion, 
ineffectually,  to  reconcile  this  adoption  of  a  State 
creed  with  his  principle  that  "  union  of  action,"  not 
"  union  in  belief,"  should  constitute  the  social  bond. 

*  Life,  Vol.  IL  p.  32. 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  131 

In  one  mood,  he  maintained  that  every  society  "  has 
a  right  to  establish  its  own  ideas " ;  *  but  if  so,  it 
"  chooses  for  its  end  truth,  rather  than  good,"  —  the 
very  thing  which  he  emphatically  condemns.!  At 
another  time,  he  denies  that  the  reception  of  Chris- 
tianity implies  any  belief  in  "  the  truth  of  a  prop- 
osition," and  treats  it  as  a  purely  practical  allegiance, 
which  any  man  may  render  at  will,  to  a  law  of  con- 
duct; and  in  defence  of  this  position,  he  adduces 
the  example  of  the  early  Christians,  among  whom 
were  some  members  "  not  even  believing  that  there 
would  be  a  resurrection  of  the  dead."  Then,  if  so, 
with  what  consistency  could  Dr.  Arnold  draw  up  a 
creed  for  the  express  purpose  of  defining  the  amount 
of  belief  sufficient  to  make  a  British  citizen  ?  He 
protests  against  Mr.  Gladstone's  doctrine,  that  the 
propagation  and  maintenance  of  "religious  truth" 
are  to  be  admitted  among  the  proper  ends  of  gov- 
ernment; and  considers  himself  as  defending  the 
very  different  proposition,  that  "man's  highest  per- 
fection "  should  be  the  final  aim  of  the  State4  But 
by  including  among  the  indispensable  elements  of 
human  "  perfection  "  a  certain  portion  of  "  religious," 
and  even  historical  "  truth,"  he  borrows  the  funda- 
mental principle  of  the  very  theory  he  confutes,  and 
lays  himself  open  to  every  objection  which  can  be 
brought  against  it,  except  as  to  the  extent  of  its  ex- 
clusiveness.  There  is  not  a  consequence  deducible 


*  Life,  Vol.  II.  p.  38. 

t  Lectures  on  Modern  History,  Vol.  I.,  Appendix,  p.  50. 

}  Ibid.,  p.  52. 


132  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

from  Mr.  Gladstone's  scheme,  as  to  the  treatment  of 
dissidents,  which  does  not  equally  follow  from  Dr. 
Arnold's,  —  with  only  the  difference,  that  the  suf- 
ferers are  less  numerous.  The  revival  of  a  test-act, 
the  enforcement  of  the  law  of  religious  libel,  the 
punishment  of  active  heresy  as  lawless  disaffection, 
are  direct  practical  corollaries  from  a  theory  which 
inserts  the  New  Testament  among  the  statutes  at 
large,  and  commits  the  estates  of  the  realm  to  the 
maintenance  of  its  authority  in  faith  and  practice. 
The  truth  is,  Arnold's  free  and  true  nature  led  him 
to  adopt  in  feeling  the  moral  and  affectionate  con- 
ception of  Christianity,  as  a  simple  aspiration  to- 
wards the  ideal  of  character  presented  in  its  records. 
But  when,  no  longer  reposing  in  the  interior  of  this 
conception,  he  attempted  to  reach  its  boundary,  and 
determine  the  external  relations  of  the  religion,  he 
found  that  his  definition  must  take  in  certain  ele- 
ments of  theological  belief;  and  what  was  meant  to 
discriminate  good  from  evil  turned  out  to  be  the  old 
barrier  between  orthodox  and  heretic. 

Such  was  the  snare  by  which  Arnold's  divinity 
contrived  to  trip  up  his  philosophy.  That  he  fell 
into  it  is  the  more  remarkable,  because,  in  a  work  to 
which  he  frequently  refers,  Coleridge  had  set  a  signal 
example  of  its  avoidance.  The  three  writers  whom 
we  have  already  analyzed  have  treated,  under  the 
name  "  Church"  exclusively  of  the  organization  of 
Christian  communities.  To  these  they  have  referred 
the  whole  spiritual  work  of  society,  and  have  omit- 
ted all  notice  of  any  other  possible  forms  which  may 
be  assumed  by  the  agents  of  the  higher  culture  of 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  133 

man.  Accordingly,  in  denning  the  proper  constitu- 
tion of  these  agencies,  their  final  appeal  has  been  to 
Scripture  and  ecclesiastical  experience;  with  their 
several  methods  of  skill  they  have  extracted  a  model 
thence,  and  never  doubted  that  this  would  meet  the 
exigencies  of  all  commonwealths  worthy  to  attract 
our  speculations.  This  assumption,  however  natural 
to  divines,  is  not  satisfactory  to  the  philosopher.  He 
cannot  but  remember  that  human  nature  is  older, 
and  human  population  more  widely  spread,  than 
Christianity ;  that  one  race,  one  half  of  the  authentic 
annals,  and  one  third  of  the  present  numbers  of  man- 
kind, exhaust  all  that  is  characteristic  of  Christen- 
dom ;  that  the  religion  itself,  as  a  social  element,  is 
but  one  phenomenon  of  that  Mind  and  Conscience 
which  governed  life  in  the  times  of  Abraham  and 
Zoroaster,  of  Solon  and  Confucius,  of  Socrates  and 
Numa,  of  Cato  and  Cratippus,  no  less  than  in  those 
of  Cyprian,  Gregory,  and  Luther.  In  constructing  a 
system  of  social  philosophy,  a  securer  and  a  wider 
basis  must  be  laid  than  can  be  found  in  the  historical 
phenomena,  however  instructive,  of  a  particular  pe- 
riod, however  extended :  and  the  foundation  sought 
in  the  elementary  tendencies  and  inherent  instincts 
of  that  human  nature  which  runs  through  all  pe- 
riods, and  produces  all  histories.  Coleridge  has  not 
precisely  done  this;  but  he  has  raised  himself  far 
above  the  ecclesiastical  point  of  view.  He  has 
evolved  his  "  Idea "  of  a  Church  from  a  survey  of 
nations  so  vast  that  Christianity  appears  as  only  one 
of  many  religions  illustrating  its  application.  In  the 
practice  of  the  Semitic  race  on  the  one  hand,  and  of 
12 


134  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  Kelts,  Scandinavians,  and  Goths  on  the  other, 
he  finds  a  principle  involved,  by  which  at  once  to 
justify  the  existence  and  to  try  the  efficiency  of  a 
National  Church.  All  these  tribes,  constituting  the 
stirps  g-enerosa  seu  historica  of  the  world,  divided  the 
land  of  each  country  which  they  occupied  into  two 
portions,  neither  of  which  were  to  be  abandoned  as 
possessions  to  arbitrary  self-will,  apart  from  all  duties 
attached  as  conditions  of  enjoyment.  One  of  these 
portions  comprised  the  heritable  lots,  or  propriety, 
whose  fiduciary  character  implied  only  private  obli- 
gations, necessarily  left  in  detail  to  the  conscience  of 
the  individual,  but  secretly  watched  over  by  the  con- 
science of  the  community.  The  other  constituted 
a  nationally,  or  inalienable  reserve  for  perpetual  in- 
come, in  which  only  life-interests  were  allowed,  con- 
ditional on  the  performance  of  certain  official  ser- 
vices.* The  purpose  of  this  public  endowment  was 
to  provide  for  that  higher  culture  of  the  citizens, 
without  which  civilization  can  make  no  advance, 
and  even  enjoy  no  stability.  The  end  was  to  be 
obtained  by  the  maintenance  in  perpetuity  of  a 
clerisy,  —  not  constituting  a  priesthood,  or  dedicated 
to  either  ritual  or  doctrinal  offices,  but  furnishing, 
first,  a  class  of  students  for  enlarging  the  range  of 

*  It  will  occur  to  some  of  our  readers  that  a  similar  bi-partition  of 
the  land  is  recommended  by  Aristotle ;  the  public  rents  being  applied 
to  the  expenses  of  government,  the  public  meals  (serving  in  part  the 
purpose  of  a  poor-rate),  and  the  maintenance  of  public  worship.  Ta  TTOOS 
rovs  deovs  8a7rai^/Ltara  KOLVU  Trdtrrjs  TTJS  7roAfa>j  e'ortj'.  avayKalov 
Toivvv  fit  8vo  ftfpr)  birjprj<r6ai.  TTJV  x&>pai>,  *ai  TTJV  pen  elvai  KOIVTJV, 
S>v.  —  Polit.  VII.  10. 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  135 

knowledge ;  next,  a  class  of  instructors  for  effect- 
ing its  distribution. 

"  A  certain  smaller  number  were  to  remain  at  the  foun- 
tain-heads of  the  humanities,  in  cultivating  and  enlarging 
the  knowledge  already  possessed,  and  in  watching  over  the 
interests  of  physical  and  moral  science ;  being  likewise  the 
instructors  of  such  as  constituted,  or  were  to  constitute,  the 
remaining  more  numerous  classes  of  the  order.  The  mem- 
bers of  this  latter,  and  far  more  numerous  body,  were  to 
be  distributed  throughout  the  country,  so  as  not  to  leave 
even  the  smallest  integral  part  or  division  without  a  resident 
guide,  guardian,  and  instructor ;  the  objects  and  final  inten- 
tion of  the  whole  order  being  these,  —  to  preserve  the 
stores  and  to  guard  the  treasures  of  past  civilization,  and 
thus  to  bind  the  present  with  the  past ;  to  perfect  and  add 
to  the  same,  and  thus  to  connect  the  present  with  the 
future  ;  but  especially  to  diffuse  through  the  whole  com- 
munity, and  to  every  native  entitled  to  its  laws  and  rights, 
that  quantity  and  quality  of  knowledge  which  was  indis- 
pensable both  for  the  understanding  of  those  rights,  and  for 
the  performance  of  the  duties  correspondent ;  finally,  to 
secure  for  the  nation,  if  not  a  superiority  over  the  neighbor- 
ing states,  yet  an  equality  at  least,  in  that  character  of  gen- 
eral civilization,  which,  equally  with,  or  rather  more  than, 
fleets,  armies,  and  revenue,  forms  the  ground  of  its  defen- 
sive and  offensive  power."  —  Church  and  State,  Ch.  V. 
p.  46. 

The  true  end  for  which  this  educated  and  edu- 
cating class  is  created,  and  that  on  which  alone  the 
State  has  a  right  to  insist,  is  the  training  of  citizens 
in  the  essentials  of  the  social  character,  —  the  dif- 
fusion among  the  people  of  "legality,  that  is,  the 
obligations  of  a  well-calculated  self-interest,  under 


136  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

the  conditions  of  a  common  interest  determined  by 
common  laws."  (p.  58.)  The  provisions  for  this 
national  culture  may  be  wholly  detached  from  the 
institutions  of  the  Christian  Church :  they  vested, 
among  the  Hebrews,  in  the  Levites,  among  the 
Kelts,  in  the  Druids,  before  Christendom  existed : 
and  in  countries  of  mixed  religions,  either  receiv- 
ing the  advance  or  witnessing  the  retreat  of  Chris- 
tianity, they  could  not  be  identified  with  an  ecclesi- 
astical system  having  only  partial  contact  with  the 
people.  In  some  respects  they  have  to  accomplish 
more,  in  others  vastly  less,  than  falls  within  the  prov- 
ince of  the  Church  of  Christ  upon  the  same  spot; 
—  more,  inasmuch  as  they  must  include  the  support, 
not  of  theology  and  morals  alone,  but  of  all  the  sci- 
ences, not  omitting  those  which  sustain  the  lay  pro- 
fessions of  law  and  medicine;  —  less,  because  they 
are  content  with  forming  good  subjects  for  the  com- 
monwealth, and  stop  short  of  the  high  aim  at  per- 
fection through  the  whole  inner  and  outer  life  of 
individuals.  The  functions,  therefore,  of  the  national 
clerisy  are  truly  distinct  from  those  of  the  Christian 
clergy :  and  in  relation  to  the  Church  of  the  body 
politic,  "  Christianity  is  a  blessed  accident,  a  provi- 
dential boon."  (p.  59.)  Whether,  the  functions 
being  different,  the  functionaries  can  ever  with  ad- 
vantage be  the  same,  must  depend  on  historical  con- 
ditions present  in  one  age,  absent  in  another.  The 
circumstances  under  which  Christian  institutions 
developed  themselves  in  the  earlier  period  of  Eng- 
lish history,  rendered  them  in  every  way  the  fittest 
depositaries  of  the  national  trust.  They  were  the 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  137 

centres  of  all  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  light 
which  ages  of  violence  had  left  unquenched.  No 
physical  science,  no  mental  skill,  no  moral  art,  had 
yet  disengaged  itself  from  their  fostering  shelter. 
They  comprehended  — 

"  All  the  so-called  liberal  arts  and  sciences,  the  posses- 
sion and  application  of  which  constitute  the  civilization  of 
a  country,  as  well  as  the  theological.  The  last  was  indeed 
placed  at  the  head  of  all ;  and  of  good  right  did  it  claim 
the  precedence.  But  why  ?  Because,  under  the  name  of 
theology  or  divinity  were  contained  the  interpretation  of 
languages,  the  conservation  and  tradition  of  past  events, 
the  momentous  epochs  and  revolutions  of  the  race  and 
nation,  the  continuation  of  the  records,  logic,  ethics,  and 
the  determination  of  ethical  science,  in  application  to  the 
rights  and  duties  of  men  in  all  their  various  relations, 
social  and  civil ;  and  last,  the  ground-knowledge,  the  prima 
scientia  as  it  was  named,  —  philosophy,  or  the  doctrine  and 
discipline  of  ideas."  —  p.  49. 

At  a  time  when  the  Christian  Church  in  the  na- 
tion failed  of  no  function  appropriate  to  the  Clerisy 
of  the  nation,  ecclesiastics  were  naturally  taken  as 
the  Officiaries  also  of  the  national  Church.  That 
they  were  ministers  of  a  religion  which,  besides 
securing  the  civil  ends,  went  on  to  accomplish  some- 
thing more  and  better,  did  not  disqualify  them  for 
their  State  trust.  It  is  only  needful  that  their  work 
should  comprise  an  instruction  of  the  people  in  legal 
obligations. 

"  Whatever  of  higher  origin  and  nobler  and  wider  aim 
the  ministers  of  the  national  Church,  in  some  other  capacity, 
and  in  the  performance  of  other  duties,  might  labor  to  im- 
12* 


138  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

plant  and  cultivate  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of  their  congre- 
gations and  seminaries,  should  include  the  practical  conse- 
quences of  the  legality  above  mentioned.  The  State 
requires  that  the  basin  should  be  kept  full,  and  that  the 
stream  which  supplies  the  hamlet  and  turns  the  mill,  and 
waters  the  meadow-fields,  should  be  fed  and  kept  flowing. 
If  this  be  done,  the  State  is  content,  indifferent  for  the  rest, 
whether  the  basin  be  filled  by  the  spring  in  its  first  ascent, 
and  rising  but  a  handVbreadth  above  the  bed ;  or  whether, 
drawn  from  a  more  elevated  source,  shooting  aloft  in  a 
stately  column,  that  reflects  the  light  of  heaven  from  its 
shaft,  and  bears  the  Iris,  cadi  decus,  promissumque  Jovis 
lucidum  on  its  spray,  it  fills  the  basin  in  its  descent."  — 
p.  59. 

The  fitness,  however,  of  the  ecclesiastical  body 
for  the  State  task  confided  to  them  diminished  in 
proportion  as  their  power  assumed  more  prominently 
a  sacerdotal  character,  and  their  influence  was  ex- 
erted rather  on  the  superstitious  fears,  than  on  the 
reason  and  conscience,  of  the  people.  When  at 
length  they  lost  all  patriotic  ties,  and  merely  resided 
on  the  land,  as  members  of  a  cosmopolitan  priest- 
hood under  allegiance  to  a  foreign  head,  the  grossest 
abuses  of  trust  occurred.  Large  portions  of  the 
heritable  lands  of  the  country  were  absorbed  into 
the  Nationalty,  by  bequests  dictated  in  ghostly  fear : 
and,  on  the  other  side,  masses  were  sacrilegiously 
alienated  from  the  Nationalty  by  those  who  were 
only  its  life-trustees.  The  true  "  Idea  "  of  the  Eng- 
lish Reformation  —  though  never  worked  out  — 
was  to  right  the  balance  thus  disturbed,  and  to  re- 
impose  upon  the  clergy  the  neglected  conditions 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  139 

required  of  them  as  functionaries  of  the  common- 
wealth. The  Nationally  should  accordingly  have 
been  allotted  to  the  maintenance,  (1.)  of  the  Uni- 
versities, and  great  schools  of  liberal  learning  ;  (2.)  of 
a  pastor  or  parson  (persona,  exemplar  of  the  per- 
sonal character)  in  every  parish ;  (3.)  of  a  school- 
master in  every  parish,  —  who  might  succeed  to  the 
pastorate ;  (4.)  of  the  poor,  from  age  or  sickness ; 
(5.)  of  the  Church  and  School  buildings.  How  far 
the  miserably  imperfect  results  of  the  Reformation  in 
England  constitute  an  unfitness  in  the  Church  of 
England  for  any  longer  performing  the  duties  of  the 
National  Clerisy,  Coleridge  nowhere  declares  his 
opinion.  Writing  with  a  special  reference  to  the 
Catholic  Emancipation  Act,  he  enumerates  only  the 
disqualifications  for  this  trust  peculiar  to  the  Ro- 
man priests,  viz.  allegiance  to  a  foreign  power,  and 
compulsory  celibacy,  in  connection  with  an  anti- 
national  head.  But  his  principles  manifestly  imply 
that  the  State  may  at  any  time  vest  the  Nationalty 
in  the  body  of  men  —  be  they  who  they  may  — 
best  fitted  to  realize  its  proper  ends;  and  if,  from 
changes  either  in  themselves,  or  in  the  community 
around  them,  the  Clergy  no  longer  represent  and 
guide  the  intellect  and  conscience  of  the  nation  at 
large,  either  new  orders  of  Educators  may  be  added 
to  them  as  the  complement  of  their  defects,  or  they 
may  be  wholly  discarded  in  favor  of  a  Clerisy  of 
lay-instructors. 

The  utter  contempt  of  "  vested  interests,"  and  even 
disregard  of  individuals,  in  contemplation  of  the 
public  weal,  which  marked  this  conception  of  the 


140  MARTINEAU'S  MISCELLANIES. 

Church,  are  no  less  apparent  in  Coleridge's  Theory 
of  the  State.  He  looks  upon  society,  not  in  Arnold's 
way,  as  composed  of  persons,  but  as  a  combination 
of  class  interests  and  tendencies;  while  the  persons 
change,  like  the  atoms  of  an  animate  body,  these, 
like  its  essential  organs,  remain  through  all  its 
growth  and  activity,  and  constitute  the  functional 
powers,  whose  deranged  or  concentaneous  operation 
determines  the  death  or  life  of  communities.  He 
resolves  the  total  well-being  of  a  State  into  two  ele- 
mentary interests,  —  that  of  Permanence,  represented 
by  the  landed  property  of  a  country,  held  (1.)  by 
the  Major  Barons  or  Peers  ;  (2.)  by  the  Minor 
Barons  or  Gentry :  and  that  of  Progression,  repre- 
sented by  its  Personalty,  under  the  several  heads  of, 
(1.)  the  manufacturing  people  in  towns ;  (2.)  the 
commercial,  in  ports ;  (3.)  the  distributive ;  (4.)  the 
professional.  The  negative  end  of  all  the  activity 
of  the  State  is,  to  guard  the  interests  and  concerns 
of  the  whole  Proprietage,  whether  landed  or  per- 
sonal ;  and  even  the  protection  of  life  and  limb  is  an 
object  of  care  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  involved  in  this. 
But  when  this  negative  end  has  been  attained,  there 
still  "remain  its  positive  ends:  (1.)  to  make  the 
means  of  subsistence  more  easy  to  each  individual ; 
(2.)  to  secure  to  each  of  its  members  the  hope  of 
bettering  his  own  condition  or  that  of  his  children ; 
(3.)  the  development  of  those  faculties  which  are 
essential  to  his  humanity,  that  is,  to  his  rational  and 
moral  being."  *  It  is  evident  from  this  that,  in  his 

*  Lay  Sermons,  p.  415. 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  141 

estimate  of  the  proper  functions  of  a  State,  Cole- 
ridge occupies  an  intermediate  position  between 
Whately  and  Arnold  ;  embracing  within  its  ends 
more  than  the  negative  system  of  the  former,  and 
less  than  the  full  Christian  Polity  of  the  latter. 
While  he  would  not  restrain  the  State  to  a  mere 
work  of  police,  he  does  not  require  it  to  become  an 
instrument  and  help  to  the  special  perfecting  of  pri- 
vate life,  demanding  of  it,  not  "  those  degrees  of  in- 
tellectual cultivation  which  distinguish  man  from 
man  in  the  same  civilized  society,  but  those  only 
that  raise  the  civilized  man  above  the  barbarian,  the 
savage,  and  the  brute."  *  Arnold  nowhere  gives  us, 
so  far  as  we  remember,  a  hint  of  any  thing  which 
his  State,  alias  Church,  can  not  do :  he  affirms  every- 
where that  it  covers  the  whole  ground  of  human 
life :  no  portion  of  the  energy  of  individuals  is  left 
afloat  for  independent  action ;  but  all  is  merged  into 
the  organization  of  the  body  politic  or  the  body 
ecclesiastic.  Coleridge,  on  the  other  hand,  declares 
it  essential  to  the  well-being  of  the  commonwealth, 
that  there  should  be  a  reserve  of  latent  power  in  the 
hands  of  individuals,  and  that  this  shall  be  main- 
tained in  due  proportion  to  the  embodied  power  of 
the  State.  He  deprecates  the  loss  of  individuality 
which  takes  place  in  absolute  monarchies  and  in 
absolute  republics,  —  in  the  one  case  by  autocratic 
annihilation,  in  the  other  by  democratic  absorption 
of  private  characteristics :  and  justly  refers  the  prac- 
tical freedom  of  the  English  people  to  the  fact  that 

*  Lay  Sermons,  p.  415. 


142  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

they  have  not  delegated  their  whole  power  to  the  Par- 
liament and  sovereign.  This  point  secured,  there  is 
but  one  other  condition  on  which  the  healthy  action 
of  the  State  depends ;  viz.  that  there  be  a  due  pro- 
portion between  the  real  social  influence  of  its  sev- 
eral classes  and  interests,  and  their  recognized  politi- 
cal power.  If  the  Permanent  and  Progressive  ele- 
ments have  their  relative  forces  adjusted  in  one  way 
in  society,  and  in  quite  another  in  the  legislature ; 
if  any  class  has  risen  into  possession  of  influential 
wealth,  without  admission  into  the  public  franchises  ; 
or  if  intellect  and  skill  obtain  direct  entrance  to 
administrative  offices,  without  any  of  the  securities 
afforded  by  cognizable  possession ;  this  rule  is  vio- 
lated, and  the  equilibrium  of  social  functions  is  dis- 
turbed. It  may  be  observed,  however,  that  where 
the  conditions  of  well-being  in  communities  seem  to 
be  hopelessly  absent,  a  spontaneous  compensation 
takes  place,  till  the  requisite  element  has  had  time 
to  unfold  itself.  Thus  Coleridge  himself  remarks, 
that  while  the  Progressive  interest  in  our  own  coun- 
try lay  yet  undeveloped,  the  Church  in  a  great  degree 
performed  its  functions  and  supplied  its  place ;  coun- 
teracting feudal  tyranny  and  relaxing  the  severity  of 
vassalage ;  holding  forth  the  benefits  of  knowledge 
and  the  means  of  future  civilization ;  and,  by  open- 
ing in  its  monasteries  an  asylum  for  fugitive  depend- 
ents and  oppressed  franklins,  becoming  the  nursery 
of  towns.  We  would  add,  that  at  this  moment  a 
striking  illustration  of  the  same  principle  of  compen- 
sation is  working  itself  out  before  our  eyes.  It  is 
undeniable  that  among  the  disorders  of  our  English 


. 
CHURCH    AND    STATE.  143 

State  we  must  reckon  it  not  the  least,  that  the  Pro- 
gressive interest  has  not  political  power  at  all  in 
proportion  to  its  free  life  and  energy  in  society ;  and 
that  the  "  clear  and  effectual  majority  of  the  lower 
House,"  provided  for  it  in  the  theory  of  the  Consti- 
tution, has  been  shifted  into  the  opposite  scale.  Of 
this  disorder  the  obstinate  maintenance  of  the  corn- 
laws  and  the  game-laws  are  the  plainest  and  most 
irritating  symptom.  But  who  can  fail  to  observe 
the  healthy  natural  tendency  of  this  incorrespondency 
to  right  itself?  The  elements  which  have  hitherto 
composed  the  Permanent  interest  are  manifestly  un- 
dergoing dissolution.  The  landed  influence  has  for 
ages  included  both  the  owners  and  the  occupiers 
of  the  soil :  and  to  regard  them  otherwise  than  as 
one  body  would  have  been  considered,  a  century 
ago,  a  sign  of  ignorance  and  folly.  And  so  it  might 
have  continued,  had  the  fiduciary  character  of  land- 
ed possession  never  been  forgotten,  and  had  not  a 
course  of  cupidity  and  ambition  on  the  part  -of  the 
owners  reduced  the  cultivators  to  a  state  of  depend- 
ence and  uncertainty,  without  any  enduring  stake 
in  the  fields  of  their  own  tillage.  But  this  very  de- 
pendence, this  precarious  tendency,  converts  them 
into  mere  traders ;  makes  the  principles  of  commer- 
cial exchange  not  only  applicable  (which  of  course 
they  must  always  be)  to  the  produce  of  their  toil, 
but  paramount  with  them  over  every  feeling  which 
might  otherwise  have  continued  to  determine  their 
political  associations.  They  are  accordingly  under- 
going a  transference  from  the  landed  to  the  personal 
interest ;  learning  to  regard  themselves  as  mere  capi- 


I 

144  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

talists;  and  acquiring  the  feelings,  the  notion  of 
rights,  the  estimate  of  duties,  which  characterize  that 
class.  This  we  consider  to  be  one  of  the  most  mo- 
mentous social  changes  of  our  own  time :  the  re- 
moter consequence  of  which  may  be,  when  a  system 
of  long  leases  has  restored  the  feeling  of  indepen- 
dence, to  shift  the  Progressive  movement  of  society, 
now  dangerously  limited  to  town  populations,  back 
among  a  rural  yeomanry,  ruled  in  their  political  as- 
pirations by  a  sterling  and  steady  sense  of  justice, 
rather  than  by  the  capricious  and  self-willed  notions 
of  liberty  that  are  apt  to  impel  the  city  multitudes. 

We  refrain  from  following  Coleridge  through  his 
historical  illustrations  of  his  theory,  from  the  devel- 
opment of  the  constitutional  powers  of  the  British 
commonwealth.  What  has  been  said  will  suffice  to 
present  his  system  of  thought  in  comparison  with 
Arnold's ;  over  which  it  seems  to  us  to  possess  two 
prime  advantages.  On  the  civil  side,  it  gives  a  more 
precise  and  practicable  definition  of  the  proper  func- 
tions of  the  State,  and  removes  the  negative  doc- 
trine, not  by  verbal  arguments  about  "  a  sovereign 
society,"  but  by  furnishing  a  positive  substitute.  On 
the  religious  side,  it  has  the  unique  merit  of  wholly 
separating  the  National  from  the  Christian  Church: 
thus  vindicating  the  principle  of  public  endowment 
for  the  higher  culture  of  the  nation,  without  impli- 
cating it  with  theological  disputes ;  imposing  no 
confession  of  faith  as  a  condition  of  citizenship ;  re- 
quiring no  legal  definition  of  Christian  essentials ; 
and  keeping  the  staff  of  government  officiaries  aloof 
from  controversies  between  Episcopacy  and  Presby- 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  145 

tery,  Priests  and  Preachers.  It  is  curious  that  Ar- 
nold, with  his  wide  historical  view,  with  his  interest 
in  modern  colonization,  with  his  epistolary  connec- 
tions in  many  lands,  should  have  failed  to  perceive 
the  utter  impracticability  of  his  theory  in  such  an 
empire  as  that  of  Great  Britain.  "With  Indians  and 
half-castes  in  Canada,  with  Pagan  aborigines  in 
New  Zealand  and  Australia,  with  Hottentots  at  the 
Cape,  with  the  Buddhists  of  Ceylon,  the  Parsees  of 
Bombay,  the  Brahmins  of  Bengal,  and  Jews  every- 
where, embraced  within  the  sovereignty  of  England, 
how  is  it  possible  to  make  the  profession  of  Chris- 
tianity a  requisite  for  political  rights  and  civil  offices? 
It  is  vain  to  thrust  these  vast  territories  out  of  sight, 
and  construct  a  theory  that  shall  be  bounded  by  the 
British  seas.  Ecclesiastical  and  educational  institu- 
tions, direct  ramifications  from  those  at  home,  al- 
ready exist  in  all  our  dependencies  :  an  administrative 
system  pervades  them  all :  and  the  relation  of  the 
natives  to  these  cannot  be  an  external  one  :  wealth, 
character,  intelligence,  —  all  the  elements  of  social 
influence,  —  must  not  be  disowned  in  behalf  of  re- 
ligious exclusion ;  and  once  admitted  as  trusted 
functionaries  of  colonial  governments,  they  surely 
are  not  to  be  held  disqualified  by  creed  from  serving 
the  imperial.  The  difficulties  of  Arnold's  theory  are 
great  enough  in  England ;  when  it  is  carried  to  the 
offsets  from  English  power,  it  vanishes  in  impossi- 
bilities. Yet,  widely  as  methods  of  government 
must  be  diversified  with  the  populations  to  which 
they  are  applied,  a  political  philosophy  ought  surely 
to  reach  some  fundamental  principles  which  underlie 
13 


146  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

them  all,  and  to  enable  the  widest  and  most  various 
empire  to  preserve  a  characteristic  unity. 

We  are  unwilling  to  try  our  readers'  patience  by 
needlessly  extending  a  discussion  which,  from  the 
compressed  form  it  unavoidably  assumes,  occasions, 
we  fear,  an  unwelcome  strain  upon  their  attention. 
Yet  we  cannot  close  without  indicating,  in  some  im- 
perfect way,  the  course  of  reflection  by  which,  as 
we  conceive,  these  great  questions  of  Polity  may  be 
brought  to  a  successful  issue.  We  are  satisfied  that 
no  test  can  be  applied  to  the  several  competing  sys- 
tems of  our  day,  —  that  no  sound  guidance  can  be 
obtained  even  through  the  confusion  of  the  May- 
nooth  debate,  —  without  adverting  to  the  first  prin- 
ciples of  political  society.  Almost  all  the  ecclesias- 
tical schemes  of  our  times  seem  to  us  well-reasoned 
from  the  premises  they  severally  assume.  The  vol- 
untaryism of  the  Independents,  the  Catholicism  of 
Mr.  Ward,  the  Establishment  scheme  of  Warbur- 
ton  and  Mr.  Macaulay,  the  National  endowment 
of  Coleridge  and  Chalmers,  are  all  admirably  de- 
fended, and  command  the  assent  of  those  who  can 
take  their  first  step  without  hesitation.  But  here  is 
the  difficulty.  To  us  they  seem  to  set  out  with 
Scriptural  interpretations,  or  Apostolic  parallels,  or 
historical  predilections,  or  ethical  maxims,  or  party 
phrases,  or  rules  of  expediency,  of  the  most  unreal 
and  questionable  kind ;  to  which,  at  all  events,  we 
find  no  correspondent  conviction;  and  before  and 
beyond  which  we  must  search  for  the  point  of  di- 
vergence of  these  different  systems.  Our  real  clew 
must  be  found  in  the  principles  of  human  nature 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  147 

that  give  rise  to  Church  and  State,  —  Religion  and 
Government;  —  principles,  of  which  all  historical 
precedents,  and  even  Christianity  itself,  as  a  received 
faith  and  source  of  social  phenomena,  are  but  the 
results ;  and  without  reference  to  which  only  a  blind 
and  empirical  use  can  be  made  of  the  lessons  of  the 
past. 

An  origin  has  been  sought  for  the  social  existence 
of  man  in  the  weakness  of  the  isolated  individual, 
and  the  necessity  of  union  for  purposes  of  self- 
defence.  The  manifest  objections  to  this  view,  fa- 
miliar as  they  have  been  made  by  the  reasonings  of 
Aristotle  and  Cicero  against  it,  have  not  prevented 
its  frequent  reappearance.*  A  general  preference, 
however,  has  been  given  to  the  theory  which  refers 
the  formation  of  communities  to  the  affectionate 
propensities  of  our  race ;  and  this  account  of  the 
original  social  bond  has  received  the  sanction  of 
Aristotle.f  But  it  appears  evident  that  the  relation 
of  mutual  equality  which  would  ensue  from  the 
mere  sentiment  of  attachment  (<£i\ia),  and  which 
Aristotle  himself  points  out  as  its  consequence,  is 
not  that  which  binds  together  the  most  elementary 
human  societies.  A  principle  of  subordination  seems 
essential  even  to  the  very  idea  of  a  group  brought 
into  permanent  unity.  This  principle  is  to  be  found, 
we  believe,  in  the  characteristics  of  man  as  a  moral 
being,  and  would  be  wholly  absent  if  he  were  made 


*  See  Say's  Cours  Complet  d'Economie  Politique,  p.  544 ;  and  Sis- 
mondi's  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  Chap.  I.  p.  2. 
t  Polit.  III.  i.  9. 


148  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

up  of  animal  instincts,  adaptive  understanding,  and 
sympathetic  affections.  These  characteristics  are 
two :  a  self-consciousness  with  respect  to  the  various 
principles  of  action  which  impel  him,  attended  by 
an  intuitive  perception  of  their  relative  worth ;  and 
a  causal  power  to  act  in  accordance  with  this  per- 
ception. The  former  is  what  is  usually  termed  Con- 
science ;  the  latter,  Will.  These  attributes  constitut- 
ing the  true  human  distinctions,  he  who  manifests 
them  in  the  highest  degree  is  regarded  as  the  most 
perfect  man.  Within  the  limits  of  our  own  con- 
sciousness, a  higher  principle  of  action  cannot  occur 
to  us  as  practicable,  while  we  are  under  solicitation 
from  a  lower,  without  our  feeling  its  right  over  us ; 
nor  can  we  imagine  the  effort  made  to  serve  its  bid- 
ding, without  a  secret  "  Well  done !  "  Let  the  same 
things  be  suggested  to  us,  not  in  the  comparative 
view  of  our  own  impulses,  but  in  noticing  the  men 
around  us,  and  the  same  sentiments  will  arise.  A 
being  manifestly  under  the  influence  of  principles 
higher  than  our  own  awakens  our  reverence,  and  ob- 
tains a  recognized  title  to  guide  us  :  a  being  with 
evident  force  of  resolve  to  execute,  more  unfailingly 
than  ourselves,  what  is  simply  on  our  level,  excites 
our  admiration,  and  wins  authority  over  us.  The  one 
is  the  representative  of  Conscience,  the  other  of  Will : 
the  one  has  the  spiritual  attribute  of  nobler  quality ; 
the  other,  in  greater  quantity :  the  one  attracts  our 
aspiration,  and  is  contemplated  as  something  god- 
like ;  the  other  inclines  us  to  obedience,  and  is 
owned  as  something  kingly :  the  one  becomes  the 
occasion  of  religion ;  the  other,  of  government. 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  149 

If,  then,  there  were  no  inequalities  of  character 
among  our  race,  the  sentiments  of  worship  and  of 
allegiance  would  remain  undeveloped.  But  the  co- 
existence in  the  same  family  of  persons  of  different 
ages  secures  this  felt  inequality,  and  provides  that 
every  human  being  shall  in  turn  live  in  the  presence 
of  those  who  are  above  him  in  both  the  attributes  of 
manhood.  The  parent  stands  to  the  child  in  the 
place  of  God  and  King.  It  is  this,  indeed,  which 
makes  the  proper  family,  in  distinction  from  the  litter 
and  the  brood.  Were  this  all,  however,  the  senti- 
ments in  question  would  never  pass  the  mere  in- 
choate state,  or  effect  any  wider  and  more  enduring 
combinations ;  all  populations  would  be  composed, 
not  of  communities,  but,  like  the  Greenlanders  and 
others,  of  families  living  in  sight  of  one  another. 
But  as  the  child  becomes  the  adult,  the  moral  ine- 
qualities which  had  been  furnished  by  difference  of 
age  are  replaced  by  those  which  the  varieties  of  nat- 
ural genius  and  character  supply.  It  is  impossible 
for  a  number  of  human  beings  to  be  collected  with- 
in reach  of  mutual  influence  without  the  appearance 
among  them  of  some  highest  soul  to  be  their  Proph- 
et, and  some  bravest  soul  to  be  their  King:  and 
around  such  a  one  —  in  the  former  case,  as  a  source 
of  law  for  internal  guidance,  in  the  latter,  of  strength 
for  external  defence  —  will  gather  the  first  truly  so- 
cial group.  Without  such  centre  of  attraction,  it 
does  not  seem  that  any  equal  and  collateral  senti- 
ments, either  of  fear  or  friendship,  which  men  might 
entertain  inter  se,  could  become  sufficiently  reflective 
or  sufficiently  extended  to  give  rise  to  the  primitive 
13* 


150  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

forms  of  association.  It  is  then  the  common  looking 
up,  not  the  mutual  looking'  round,  that  effects  this 
end  :  and  society  and  reverence  begin  together.  It 
is  conceivable  that,  for  a  while,  a  human  object 
alone  might  engage  this  feeling;  but  soon  it  must 
rise  and  determine  itself  towards  invisible  powers. 
For  the  strongest  human  wills  have  yet  a  stronger, 
and  after  every  triumph,  vanish  as  transient  effects : 
and  the  highest  consciences  have  yet  a  higher,  that 
they  only  serve ;  and  while  the  noblest  beings  pass 
away,  the  binding  law  they  lived  to  manifest  con- 
tinues still  the  same.  Thus  that  which  they  made 
men  venerate  becomes  disengaged  from  their  person- 
ality, and  felt  to  be  independent  of  the  limitations  of 
mortal  existence :  and  the  transcendent  form  of  rever- 
ence arises  which  constitutes  proper  Religion.  Now, 
for  the  first  time,  there  is  an  invisible  object  of 
faith  and  homage  distinct  from  the  visible ;  —  the 
latter  becomes  simply  representative  of  the  former, 

—  the  embodiment  of  a  sacred  rule  over  human  life; 

—  not   the  divinity,  but  the  shrine.     The  lawgiver 
and  prophet,  being  now  only  the  medium  of  faith, 
becomes   the  source  of  Church   and  State,  as  sep- 
arate from  Religion. 

If  such  are  the  elementary  forces  from  which  a 
community  would  arise,  one  and  the  same  germ 
contains  the  future  growth  of  Church  and  State. 
There  is  nothing  to  prevent  the  Lawgiver,  who  de- 
fines and  enforces  recognized  obligations,  —  and  the 
Prophet,  who  awakens  the  sense  of  new  ones, — 
from  meeting  in  the  same  man :  and  until  experi- 
ence has  exercised  its  analytical  industry  on  the 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  151 

functions  of  human  life,  this  will  actually  be  the  case. 
The  two  characters  were  united  in  Moses,  in  Pythag- 
oras, in  Mahomet :  and  all  societies  which  either 
are  actually  traceable  to  the  spontaneous  principles 
of  combination  in  their  simplest  state,  or  have  as- 
cended to  these  in  theory,  and  been  deliberately  con- 
structed upon  them,  have  possessed  a  theocratic 
character,  and  expressed  the  whole  conscience  of 
their  members.  Nay,  in  the  conception  which  we 
naturally  form  of  a  perfect  community,  we  unavoid- 
ably resume  the  same  idea,  and  wholly  sink  the  dis- 
tinction between  civil  and  ecclesiastical  rule.  In  the 
imagination  of  a  Messianic  kingdom  which  occupied 
the  Hebrew  mind,  —  in  the  expectation  of  a  Mil- 
lennial reign,  which  engages  the  thoughts  of  many 
Christians,  —  in  the  faith  which  all  disciples  have  of 
a  society  of  the  immortal  good  beyond  the  reach  of 
death,  —  a  perfect  coalescence  takes  place  between 
the  ideas  of  Religion  and  Government,  and  the  rule 
of  a  Divine  Law  over  reverencing  natures  absorbs 
the  functions  of  them  both.  If  only  one  association 
existed  in  the  world,  so  as  to  be  wholly  intent  on  its 
internal  regulation,  and  if  the  two  qualities  of  high- 
er conscience  and  of  stronger  will  were  always  com- 
bined in  its  leaders,  this  union  of  the  elements  of 
Church  and  State  would  never  be  dissolved.  But 
these  are  not  the  actual  conditions  under  which  we 
live.  A  community  falls  into  foreign  collisions  and 
disputes ;  military  qualities  —  rarely  found  in  the  pro- 
phetic type  of  man,  and  implying  a  predominance  of 
force  of  will  over  loftiness  of  conscience  —  become 
indispensable ;  the  hero  most  able  to  head  the  busi- 


152  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

ness  of  self-defence  and  aggression  acquires  a  tempo- 
rary preeminence :  and  different  functionaries  now 
represent  the  moral  law  and  the  resolute  strength  of 
the  society.  The  effects  of  this  loss  of  isolation  and 
assumption  of  external  relations  all  tend  to  widen 
the  separation  of  Church  and  State.  Conquest  is 
made ;  new  territory  is  taken,  partitioned,  and  occu- 
pied :  the  direction  of  this  work  devolves  on  the  vic- 
torious leader,  apart  from  the  earlier  governors  left 
at  home.  Hence  he  obtains  kingly  rights  over  the 
fresh  acquisitions ;  and  to  guard  these  rights,  to 
modify,  to  interpret  them,  a  special  body  of  rules 
and  officers  becomes  necessary,  constituting  a  differ- 
ent system  from  that  which  before  had  managed  all 
common  affairs.  Of  this  system,  the  title  to  per- 
sonal possession  and  the  preservation  of  contracts  of 
service  and  tenancy  would  manifestly  form  the  chief 
objects,  as  between  the  members  of  the  victorious 
people.  Growing  up  by  a  recognized  authority 
among  themselves,  it  would  still  not  lose  the  moral 
character  hitherto  felt  to  belong  to  all  rule,  and 
would  be  acknowledged  as  binding  on  them  in  a 
higher  sense  than  that  it  was  their  interest  to  submit. 
In  other  words,  the  new  code,  though  proceeding 
from  their  State-power,  not  from  their  Church-power, 
would  still  form  part  of  their  religion.  With  the 
subjugated  tribe  it  is  different.  In  relation  to  them, 
conquest  gives  rise  to  a  system  of  coercive  law,  to 
which  there  is  nothing  answering  in  their  conscience. 
It  is  invested  with  no  sacred  character,  and  is  long 
obeyed  under  protest  and  with  reluctance.  Hence 
arises  a  great  part  of  the  penal  legislation  of  a  coun- 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  153 

try :  and,  connecting  this  consideration  with  the  pre- 
ceding, we  see  why  the  State  officers  —  representa- 
tives of  kingly  rights  —  take  cognizance  of  offences 
against  public  authority  and  private  property;  while 
the  Church  courts  long  retain  the  cases  of  primitive 
difficulty  and  injury  between  human  beings,  and  set- 
tle the  domestic  questions  of  divorce,  paternal  right, 
and  inheritance. 

Besides  these  general  causes,  involved  in  the  as- 
sumption of  external  relations  by  a  community,  cer- 
tain special  agencies  connected  with  the  historical 
development  of  Christian  institutions  have  forced 
asunder  the  associate  ideas  of  Church  and  State. 
During  the  first  century  of  our  era,  the  disciples 
not  only  held  a  new  religion,  but  constituted  a  new 
polity.  Their  monotheistic  earnestness  was  alone 
sufficient  to  prevent  their  having  recourse  to  the  le- 
gal system  of  franchises  and  protection  afforded  by 
a  Pagan  government,  especially  under  a  sway  which 
no  longer  left  to  any  of  its  subjects  a  history  to  boast 
or  a  country  to  serve.  Add  to  this  the  expectation 
of  a  speedy  return  of  Christ  to  reign  over  them,  the 
feeling  of  allegiance  to  him,  the  sense  of  fellow-citi- 
zenship with  each  other,  and  total  alienation  from  the 
world  about  to  perish ;  and  it  can  no  longer  excite 
surprise  that  they  organized  a  distinct  republic,  and 
secretly  withdrew  their  civil  as  well  as  their  religious 
life  within  the  precincts  of  their  own  association. 
Meanwhile,  the  Empire  continued,  and  its  law  nom- 
inally regulated  the  political  affairs  and  the  temple 
worship  of  all  civilized  lands.  When  Constemtine, 
therefore,  embraced  the  new  faith,  he  was  himself  at 


154  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

the  head  of  a  Pagan  system  of  Church  and  State  ; 
he  found  coexisting  a  Christian  system  performing 
also  the  functions  of  Church  and  State  ;  with  this  he 
formed  an  alliance,  dropping  the  Church  element  of 
the  Pagan  scheme,  appropriating  the  State  element 
of  the  Christian,  but  leaving  without  much  interfer- 
ence its  ecclesiastical  offices.  Thus  two  social  mech- 
anisms, long  independent,  and  even  antagonistic,  rec- 
ognized each  other  ;  instead  of  either  absorbing  the 
other,  they  entered  into  compromise  and  partner- 
ship ;  and  the  false  distinction  between  secular  and 
spiritual  things  became  established.  The  subsequent 
dissolution  of  the  Empire  confirmed  and  widened 
this  distinction.  One  temporal  sword  no  longer  held 
sway  over  the  whole  geographical  extension  of  the 
faith  :  but  while  Christendom  retained  its  unity,  new 
centres  of  political  government  were  everywhere 
forming  themselves,  and  creating  distinct  social  sys- 
tems ;  the  incipient  promise  of  modern  European  na- 
tions. Provinces  had  long  established  their  inde- 
pendent sovereignty,  before  the  ecclesiastical  power 
ceased  to  be  Catholic ;  and  even  the  mere  part- 
nership of  Constantine's  creation  was  destroyed  by 
the  vicissitudes  which  caused  the  dismemberment 
of  the  Empire  to  precede  the  disruption  of  the 
Church. 

It  is  evident  also  that  the  growth  of  sacerdotal 
doctrine  could  not  but  contribute  to  the  same  end. 
Not  that  this  would  deny  to  the  Church  any  of  the 
proper  powers  of  the  State.  But  not  even  the 
genius,  of  a  Gregory  could  reduce  the  world  to  an 
avowed  theocracy.  And,  failing  this,  Priesthood  takes 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  155 

the  other  course,  and  denies  to  the  State  the  powers 
of  the  Church  ;  claims  supernatural  offices  which  no 
human  governor  may  touch,  yet  without  which  all 
other  ordering  of  life  is  vain ;  and  thus  goes  apart 
from  the  system  which  it  cannot  appropriate  and  ab- 
sorb. The  Catholic  doctrine,  it  is  true,  maintains  an 
accord,  to  some  extent,  between  the  civil  and  ecclesi- 
astical powers  as  to  their  ends ;  both  are  to  secure 
obedience  to  the  moral  law  of  God.  But  the  one  is 
an  earthly,  the  other  a  divine  instrument,  for  this  end : 
and  till  the  sceptre  is  content  to  do  the  bidding  of 
the  crosier,  it  is  but  the  emblem  of  an  agency  unac- 
cepted and  unblessed. 

But  of  all  the  causes  tending  to  detach  from  each 
other  the  ideas  of  Church  and  State,  none  has  had 
so  powerful  an  operation  as  the  Lutheran  tenet  of 
Justification  by  faith.  It  represents  Christianity  as 
entirely  anulling  all  Law,  and  substituting  a  princi- 
ple at  variance  with  any  lingering  consciousness  of 
its  dictates.  It  treats  the  whole  system  of  feelings 
connected  with  the  moral  sense,  —  the  scrupulous 
care,  the  self-denying  resolve,  the  binding  pressure  of 
duty,  the  recoil  from  retributory  justice,  —  as  the 
characteristic  marks  of  an  unregenerate  mind:  and 
regards  the  extinction  of  all  these  in  a  sentiment  of 
reliance  on  the  sacrifice  of  Calvary,  as  a  necessary 
act  of  Christian  self-renunciation,  fulfilling  the  one 
great  end  of  Revelation.  Now  the  State  subsists 
wholly  on  the  natural  sense  of  obligation ;  according 
to  the  Lutheran  view,  the  Church  subsists  wholly  to 
supplant  it.  The  State  proclaims  the  supremacy  of 
Law;  the  Church,  its  abrogation.  The  State  relies 


156  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

on  the  hopes  and  fears  of  responsible  beings ;  the 
Church  triumphs  in  their  annihilation.  Thus  the 
two  institutions  aim  at  ends  directly  contradictory: 
the  conditions  of  mind  which  they  severally  seek  to 
produce  in  a  people  cannot  coexist ;  and  every  indi- 
vidual successfully  ruled  by  the  one  is  detained  or 
reclaimed  from  the  other.  The  State,  in  short,  be- 
longs wholly  to  the  system  of  unconverted  human 
nature  and  a  perishing  world :  and  is  the  positive 
opposite  of  the  Church,  which,  by  agencies  beyond 
the  compass  of  our  will,  gathers  out  of  that  world 
an  emancipated  community  of  saints.  This  doctrine 
is  the  true  source  of  the  modern  notion  of  a  "  sep- 
aration of  Church  and  State  " :  and  in  proportion  to 
their  earnestness  in  its  adoption  do  English  sects 
distinguish  themselves  in  the  agitation  of  which  this 
phrase  is  the  symbol.  The  strength  of  Voluntary- 
ism lies  in  the  belief  that  the  ends  of  Christianity 
are  not  moral  ends. 

From  this  brief  account  of  the  disturbances  which 
have  interrupted  the  original  partnership  between  the 
two  elementary  powers  of  society,  some  augury  may 
be  collected  as  to  their  possible  re-approximation. 
We  have  found  them  drawn  into  contrast  with  each 
other  by  historical  differences  of  origin  in  their  pres- 
ent form ;  by  doctrinal  differences  as  to  their  ends ; 
and  practical  differences  as  to  their  means.  The  ef- 
fects arising  from  the  first  of  these  may  fairly  be  ex- 
pected to  wear  out.  The  accidental  conditions  under 
which  Christian  institutions  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  political  arrangements  of  modern  Europe  on  the 
other,  developed  themselves  into  their  present  form, 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  157 

offer  now  but  the  mere  inert  resistance  of  custom  to 
the  permanent  force  of  natural  human  sentiment :  and 
must  insensibly  yield  up  their  influence  to  the  new 
social  tendencies  in  which  that  sentiment  will  ever  re- 
assert itself.  Then,  the  doctrinal  schemes  by  which 
the  ends  of  Church  and  State  have  been  brought  into 
contrariety,  either  as  to  their  nature  or  as  to  their 
extent,  are,  in  our  estimation,  false.  Neither  have 
the  sacerdotal  claims  which  would  add  a  supernatu- 
ral function  to  the  moral  duties  of  the  Church,  any 
foundation  in  Christianity :  nor  is  the  Lutheran  dis- 
regard of  Law,  which  would  withdraw  from  the 
Church  the  moral  aims  of  the  State,  any  thing  but 
the  exaggeration  of  a  truth  which  leads  to  no  such 
consequence.  There  remains,  as  the  only  real  and 
essential  distinction  between  the  two  institutions,  a 
practical  difference  in  their  means.  Coercion  must 
be  habitually  employed  by  the  civil  society  against 
the  violator  of  its  laws,  irrespectively  of  the  offend- 
er's own  sense  of  justice ;  by  the  religious  society 
never.  The  only  punishments  it  can  invoke  in  this 
latter  relation  are  such  as  may  be  in  accordance 
with  the  pledged  conscience  of  the  transgressor,  con- 
stituting an  outward  expression  of  his  remorse,  and 
partaking  of  the  nature  of  penance :  or  else,  they 
must  amount  to  simple  expulsion,  —  an  act  which 
.may  have  no  doubt  a  penal  effect,  but  is  intended  as 
merely  declaratory  of  a  cessation  of  the  bond  of  con- 
nection. The  ground  of  this  distinction  is  found  in 
the  very  idea  of  the  two  associations.  Both  aim  at 
the  governance  of  life  by  moral  law ;  but  with  this  dif- 
ference :  the  Church  proceeds  on  the  assurance  that 
14  • 


158  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

all  men  are  conscious  of  that  law ;  the  State,  on  the 
observation  that  some  men  violate  it.  The  Church 
assumes  their  anxiety  to  serve  it ;  the  State,  their  re- 
luctance. The  Church,  looking  round  on  the  sphere 
of  human  temptation,  speaks  out  in  the  vow,  "  We 
will  not " ;  the  State,  in  the  command,  "  Thou  shalt 
not."  The  Church,  therefore,  from  its  very  nature, 
relies  upon  the  feeling  of  moral  Reverence;  the  State, 
on  the  dread  of  Retribution.  If  all  its  proper  pur- 
poses could  be  accomplished  by  the  former,  nothing 
would  remain  for  the  latter  to  achieve :  but  con- 
science failing  to  prevent  evil  in  its  spiritual  begin- 
nings, fear  must  interpose  to  arrest  its  external  devel- 
opment. The  State  is  thus  the  dernier  ressort  to 
the  Church,  —  society's  forlorn  hope  for  the  check  of 
moral  ills.  And  hence  it  is,  that  it  must  never  fail; 
or  else,  being  an  expression  of  the  community's 
strength  of  Will,  it  loses  its  right,  no  less  than  its 
might :  while  the  Church,  representing  the  common 
aspiration  towards  a  perfection  that  cannot  cease  to 
be  owned  as  divine,  remains  unimpaired  through  all 
failures. 

It  is  obvious  that  the  characteristic  use  of  coercion 
by  the  State,  though  a  peculiarity  in  the  nature  of 
its  means,  must  introduce  a  limitation  into  the  sys- 
tem of  ends  at  which  it  aims.  There  is  no  human 
good,  no  element  of  social  perfection,  which  it  might 
not  fitly  attempt  to  realize,  if  there  were  reasonable 
hope  of  success.  But  wielding  no  instruments  ex- 
cept the  hope  of  public  reward  and  the  fear  of  pub- 
lic punishment,  it  is  unable  to  reach  the  whole  of 
life  ;  and  large  provinces  of  duty  must  remain  beyond 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  159 

its  vigilance  and  control.  Without  attempting  to 
draw  any  exact  boundary  around  its  proper  realm, — 
which  indeed  must  vary  with  the  historical  conditions 
by  which  it  is  environed,  —  it  is  clear  that  it  can 
take  cognizance  only  of  external  actions,  susceptible 
of  attestation;  that  it  cannot  regulate  acts  of  simple 
prudence  and  imprudence  ;  that,  even  of  injuries,  only 
those  can  be  brought  within  its  power  which  admit 
of  definition,  and  of  something  like  admeasurement, 
both  as  to  their  intent  and  as  to  their  effects.  Though, 
however,  these  limitations  might  be  carried  further, 
we  altogether  deny  that  they  reduce  the  business  of 
the  State  to  the  "  protection  of  body  and  goods." 
We  believe  that  a  government  which  refuses  to  at- 
tempt more  will  soon  be  unable  to  accomplish  this: 
and  that  when  it  seems  to  move  with  success  within 
these  narrow  bounds,  the  order  of  which  it  boasts  is 
bequeathed  from  an  age  when  it  aspired  to  a  nobler 
power,  and  is  sustained  by  sentiments  lingering  from 
that  better  time.  The  superannuated  village  school- 
master may  retire  into  the  dignity  of  village  consta- 
ble ;  and  when  he  sees  the  decent  habits,  the  quiet 
security,  the  neighborly  respect,  prevailing  in  the 
place,  not  a  cabbage  stolen  from  the  gardens,  not 
a  bit  of  washed  linen  threatened  in  the  fields,  the 
old  man  may  indulge  in  complacent  reflections  on 
the  potency  of  his  office,  and-  see  in  all  this  the 
terrors  of  his  staff.  He  forgets  that  he  taught  the 
alphabet  before  he  vindicated  the  law;  that  the 
men  and  women  in  the  cottages  were,  a  few  years 
ago,  the  boys  and  girls  on  his  old  school-bench ;  that 
the  kindly  thoughts  around  him  were  born  in  the 


160  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

play-ground  or  the  cricket-green  ;  and  that  the  rever- 
ent sense  of  Christian  hope  and  duty,  first  awakened 
by  his  own  serious  voice,  is  the  real  guardian  of 
the  peace  and  order  he  admires.  A  State  that,  on 
the  appointment  of  some  philosophy  more  easy  than 
wise,  is  in  a  condition  to  retire  into  official  "  protector 
of  body  and  goods,"  must  have  had  some  more  re- 
spectable occupation  in  its  youth. 

On  the  whole,  we  should  say,  as  the  general  result 
of  the  previous  reflections,  that  the  CHURCH  is  that 
system  of  organized  agencies  by  which  men  in  so- 
ciety may  be  led  towards  compliance  with  the  whole 
moral  law,  through  reverence  :  and  that  the  STATE  is 
that  system  of  organized  agencies  by  which  men  in 
society  may  be  led  to  comply  with  such  parts  of  the 
moral  law  as  are  within  the  reach  of  public  reward  and 
punishment.  Besides  the  Church  proper,  including 
the  arrangements  (1.)  for  worship,  (2.)  for  education, 
there  are  a  number  of  unorganized  agencies  of  the 
same  class :  they  comprise  the  whole  set  of  influ- 
ences proceeding  from  higher  minds  upon  lower, 
whether  in  domestic  government,  in  the  exercises  of 
charity,  in  literature,  or  in  social  intercourse.  And 
besides  the  State  proper,  including  (1.)  the  legislative, 
(2.)  the  judicial,  (3.)  the  executive  systems,  there  are 
also  a  number  of  unorganized  agencies  of  the  same 
class  :  they  comprise  the  whole  set  of  prudential 
motives,  whether  from  physical  pleasure  and  pain, 
from  public  opinion,  or  from  expectation  of  future 
reward  and  punishment.  It  is  evident,  that  if  the 
Church,  in  this  largest  sense,  were  perfect  in  its  action, 
the  State  functions  would  never  come  into  existence, 


CHURCH    AND    STATE.  161 

but  always  stand  at  zero  :  that  if,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  Church  had  no  action,  the  State  functions  would 
become  infinite,  and  cease  to  be  possible :  and  that 
every  success  of  the  Church  is  a  burden  taken  from 
the  State.  What  then  is  the  conclusion  to  be  drawn 
as  to  the  mutual  relation  of  the  two  institutions  ? 
Manifestly  this :  since  a  Society-in- State  has  no  ends 
of  self-government,  which  the  same  Society-in-  Church 
does  not  aim  to  anticipate  and  realize  in  a  better  way, 
the  former  has  the  deepest  interest  in  aiding  the  ex- 
periment of  the  latter.  In  principle,  then,  we  see  no 
ground  for  denouncing  the  interposition  of  civil  sup- 
port on  behalf  of  educational  and  religious  institu- 
tions. If  it  be  competent  to  the  sovereign  authority 
to  spend  the  resources  of  the  country  in  punishing1 
wrong-doers,  it  seems  perverse  to  say  that  the  same 
authority  may  not  engage  itself  in  preventing  their 
existence.  Unfortunately,  however,  the  abstract 
conclusion  which  we  have  stated  lies  at  a  vast  dis- 
tance from  the  practical  questions  which  create  the 
ecclesiastical  controversies  of  the  present  day,  and  af- 
fords but  an  incipient  clew  to  guide  us  through  their 
intricacies.  The  State  authorities  may  have  the  right 
to  aid  the  Church ;  but  suppose  they  cannot  find  it ; 
that  the  national  sources  of  Reverence  lie  among  the 
unorganized  agencies,  and  have  deserted  the  visible 
ecclesiastical  system ;  suppose  that  the  citizens,  un- 
conscious of  the  devout  sentiments  which  unite  them 
at  heart,  are  so  sensitive  about  the  formal  beliefs 
which  separate  them  in  understanding,  that  a  com- 
mon recognition  by  the  sovereign  power  threatens 
an  implacable  strife ;  suppose  it  impossible  to  gain 
14* 


162  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

assurance  that  the  thing  aided  is  a.  Church  and  a 
national  Church, —  that  is,  does  really  inspire  rever- 
ence for  the  obligations  of  citizenship;  —  what  then  is 
to  be  done  ?  Can  the  right  take  effect  ?  or,  for  want 
of  the  proper  historical  conditions,  must  it  be  inac- 
tive till  better  times?  We  shall  not  attempt  to  re- 
solve these  questions  now;  anxious,  in  tracing  our 
path  through  the  theory  of  Polity,  to  admit  no  dis- 
turbance from  the  sceptic  laugh,  and  fanatic  fears, 
and  party  rage,  that  confuse  every  entrance  on  its 
practice. 


THEODORE    PARKER'S    DISCOURSE    OF 
RELIGION.* 

[From  the  Prospective  Review  for  February,  1846.] 

IT  is  a  dishonorable  characteristic  of  the  present 
age,  that  on  its  most  marked  intellectual  tendencies 
is  impressed  a  character  of  FEAR.  While  its  great 
practical  agitations  exhibit  a  progress  towards  some 
positive  and  attainable  good,  all  its  conspicuous 
movements  of  thought  seem  to  be  mere  retreats 
from  some  apprehended  evil.  Its  new  sects  are  the 
results  of  certain  prevalent  antipathies,  and  are  like 
herds  flying  from  a  common  repulsion.  The  open 
plain  of  meditation,  over  which,  in  simpler  times, 
earnest  men  might  range  with  devout  and  unmo- 
lested hope,  bristles  all  over  with  directions,  showing 
which  way  we  are  not  to  go.  Turn  where  we  may, 
we  see  warnings  to  beware  of  some  sophist's  pitfall, 
or  Devil's  ditch,  or  Fool's  Paradise,  or  Atheist's  des- 
ert, or  inclosure  of  the  elect,  with  its  "  procul  este 
profani."  A  despair  of  truth  seizes  our  timid  and 
degenerate  men.  Checked  and  frightened  at  the 


*  A  Discourse  of  Matters  pertaining  to  Religion.  By  Theodore 
Parker,  Minister  of  the  Second  Church  in  Roxbury,  Mass.  Boston. 
1842. 


164  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

entrance  of  every  path  on  which  they  venture,  they 
spend  their  strength  in  standing  still ;  or  devise  in- 
genious proofs,  that,  in  a  world  where  periodicity  is 
the  only  progress,  retrogradation  is  the  discreetest 
method  of  advance.  The  first  Tractarians  were 
evidently  men  not  unused  to  explore  the  grounds 
and  seek  the  limits  of  religious  faith ;  and  having 
pushed  forward  over  this  vast  field  till  it  was  track- 
less except  by  heretic  feet,  they  were  startled  at  their 
position ;  hid  their  faces,  and  refused  to  look  into 
the  distance ;  grew  terrified  at  their  own  lengthening 
shadow,  and  felt  as  though  at  its  further  extremity 
it  were  already  dipping  into  some  dread  abyss.  The 
recoil  of  Coleridge,  and  more  recently  of  the  Cam- 
bridge men,  from  the  philosophy  of  Locke,  is  no  less 
clearly  an  act  of  repugnance ;  a  shrinking  from  con- 
sequences which  it  was  not  expedient  to  meet.  And 
now  a  certain  spectral  monster,  called  "  Transcen- 
dentalism," disturbs  the  serenity  of  conventional  be- 
lievers, and  produces  an  excitement  greatly  dispro- 
portioned  to  its  alleged  feeble  and  unsubstantial 
nature.  Those  who  report  upon  it  declare  that  they 
plainly  discern  it  in  many  places,  and  can  trace  all 
Its  approaches ;  they  pronounce  it,  at  the  same  time, 
the  most  bewildered  of  chimeras,  —  in  fact,  entirely 
destitute  of  eyesight:  yet,  wherever  it  gropes  its 
way,  it  produces,  like  the  hunter  in  blind-man's-buff, 
first  an  audible  rustling  in  the  childish  crowd,  and 
then  a  shooting  off  in  all  practicable  radii.  But  it 
has  always  been  the  way  with  ghosts  to  do  little, 
and  to  scare  much.  This  intellectual  cowardice  — 
connected,  like  all  cowardice,  with  an  unloving  and 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      165 

cruel  temper  —  is  a  fatal  indication  of  religious  de- 
cline ;  and  a  source  of  the  imbecility  of  the  pulpit, 
compared  with  the  power  of  the  secular  press.  Re- 
ligion no  longer  thinks,  soliloquizes,  and  is  overheard 
in  worship ;  but  stands  consciously  in  the  presence 
of  a  host  of  enemies,  and  elaborates  its  defence  and 
plans  its  attack.  Theologies,  philosophies,  arise, 
not  now  as  the  simple  tent  which  the  soul  would 
pitch,  and  where  it  would  abide,  and  whence  look 
forth,  under  the  shelter  of  sufficient  faith  from  the 
natural  inclemencies  of  this  universe ;  but  as  shot- 
proof  fortifications,  built  with  engineering  skill,  to 
protect  some  threatened  treasure,  and  defy  some 
formidable  artillery.  Anxiety  for  a  safe  creed,  and, 
from  reaction,  indifference  to  all  creed,  are  the  two 
bad  sentiments  with  which  priestly  influence  has 
impregnated  the  mind  of  Europe,  in  place  of  the 
natural  desire  for  a  true  creed.  The  rarity  with 
which  doctrines  connected  with  morals  and  divinity 
are  looked  at  with  a  single  eye  to  their  truth  or  false- 
hood, is  disheartening  to  those  who  know  what  this 
symptom  implies.  The  fear  of  doubt  is  already  a 
renunciation  of  faith.  With  all  the  talk  of  infidelity 
in  this  age,  no  one  has  more  certainly  a  heart  of  un- 
belief than  he  who  cannot  simply  trust  himself  to 
the  realities  of  God ;  who  cannot  say,  "  If  here  there 
be  light,  let  us  use  it  gladly ;  if  otherwise,  let  us  go 
into  the  dark,  where  Heaven  ordains :  owning  our 
helplessness,  we  shall  feel  the  Invisible  Presence  near 
us  keeping  his  holy  watch  ;  but  pretending  that  we 
see,  we  shall  be  left  to  a  bleak  and  lonely  night." 
To  those  who  are  haunted  with  fears  lest  "  neo- 


166  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

logical "  speculation  should  undermine  the  founda- 
tions of  religion,  it  must  be  consolatory  to  remember, 
that  though  mankind,  according  to  the  testimony  of 
divines,  have  always  been  on  the  point  of  renoun- 
cing their  belief  in  God,  they  have  never  actually 
done  so.  On  the  appearance  of  every  great  class  of 
discoveries  in  physical  science,  every  large  extension 
of  ancient  chronology,  every  new  school  of  meta- 
physics, the  danger  has  been  announced  as  immi- 
nent :  yet  the  Atheism  of  the  world,  like  the  Mil- 
lennium of  the  Church,  is  a  catastrophe  which  con- 
tinues to  be  postponed.  The  researches  which  as- 
signed a  high  antiquity  to  the  dynasties  of  Egypt 
and  the  mythologies  of  India,  were  charged  with 
audacity  for  trespassing  beyond  the  Flood,  and  even 
passing  without  notice  by  the  gates  of  Eden ;  as  if, 
in  fixing  the  place  of  Menes,  and  finding  the  origin 
of  the  Sagas,  the  Creator  was  superseded,  and  the 
world  abandoned  to  fatalism.  The  great  geological 
periods,  descending  by  colossal  steps  down  into  the 
darkness  of  the  past  eternity,  were  thought  to  con- 
duct into  the  chambers  of  a  godless  necessity.  The 
theory  which  admits,  and  the  theory  which  denies, 
the  "  Necessary  Connection "  between  Cause  and 
Effect,  have  both  been  accused  of  hostility  to  the 
first  principles  of  natural  theology,  and  have  both 
been  employed  to  invalidate  them.  And  the  attempt 
to  evade  the  danger  by  resolving  all  assignable 
powers  into  the  activity  of  God,  is  condemned  as 
mischievously  Pantheistic,  melting  away  every  di- 
vine element  from  life  in  the  solvent  of  indiscrimi- 
nate mysticism.  Yet,  after  all  these  shocks,  the 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.     167 

theoretic  faith  of  men  stands  fast,  and  the  shelter  of 
a  divine  rule  is  felt  to  overarch  us  still.  Amid  the 
vicissitudes  of  the  intellect,  worship  retains  its  sta- 
bility :  and  the  truth  which,  it  would  seem,  cannot 
be  proved,  is  unaffected  by  an  infinite  series  of  refu- 
tations. How  evident  that  it  has  its  ultimate  seat, 
not  in  the  mutable  judgments  of  the  understanding, 
but  in  the  native  sentiments  of  Conscience,  and  the 
inexhaustible  aspirations  of  Affection!  The  supreme 
certainty  must  needs  be  too  true  to  be  proved  :  and 
the  highest  perfection  can  appear  doubtful  only  to 
Sensualism  and  Sin. 

Gladly  then  do  we  gird  up  our  hearts  to  follow 
the  bold  and  noble  steps  of  Theodore  Parker  over 
the  ample  province  of  thought  which  he  traverses  in 
his  Discourse  on  Religion.  However  startling  the 
positions  to  which  he  conducts  us,  and  however 
breathless  the  impetuosity  with  which  he  hurries  on, 
the  region  over  which  he  flies  is  no  dream-land,  but 
a  real  one,  which  will  be  laid  down  truly  or  falsely 
in  the  minds  of  reflecting  men ;  his  survey  of  it  is 
grand  and  comprehensive,  complete  in  its  boundaries, 
if  not  always  accurate  in  its  contents ;  and  the  glass 
of  clear  and  reverential  faith  through  which  he  looks 
at  all  things,  presents  the  most  familiar  objects  in 
aspects  beautiful  and  new.  The  book  treats  in 
orderly  succession  of  every  topic  interesting  to  the 
religious  philosopher,  and  needful  to  be  handled  in 
the  construction  of  a  positive  faith.  It  opens  with 
a  discussion  of  the  Metaphysics  of  Religion,  distrib- 
uted over  two  Books ;  in  the  first  of  which  the  psy- 
chological sources  of  worship  are  investigated  and 


168  MARTINEAU's     MISCELLANIES. 

traced  through  their  manifestations  in  Fetichism, 
Polytheism,  Monotheism ;  while  in  the  second,  the 
passage  is  made  to  the  Ontological  conclusions 
which  the  religious  sentiment  demands,  and,  in  de- 
termining the  relations  of  God  to  Nature  and  to  the 
Soul  the  questions  of  Miracle  and  Inspiration  are 
reviewed.  This  leads  to  the  Historical  and  Critical 
theology  of  the  two  succeeding  Books ;  the  first 
treating  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth  personally,  the  source 
of  his  authority,  the  essence  of  his  religion,  the 
attributes  of  his  character ;  the  second,  of  the  He- 
brew records  by  which  his  nation  is  known  to  us, 
and  the  Greek,  in  which  the  impression  of  himself 
and  his  disciples  is  handed  down ;  the  claims  of 
their  origin,  the  credibility  of  their  contents,  and  the 
just  limits  to  our  veneration  for  their  statements.  A 
concluding  Book  examines  the  origin,  organization, 
and  distribution  of  the  Church ;  and  estimates  the 
merits  and  defects  of  its  Romish,  its  Protestant,  and 
its  Philosophical  parties.  So  vast  a  mass  of  matter, 
requiring  for  its  management  a  very  various  skill, 
cannot,  it  may  be  supposed,  be  dealt  with  by  one 
man,  and  in  one  volume,  otherwise  than  superficially. 
Yet  there  is  a  mastery  shown  over  every  element  of 
the  great -subject,  and  the  slight  treatment  of  it  in 
parts  no  reader  can  help  attributing  to  the  plan  of 
the  work,  rather  than  to  the  incapacity  of  the  author. 
From  the  resources  of  a  mind  singularly  exuberant 
by  nature  and  laboriously  enriched  by  culture,  a  sys- 
tem of  results  is  here  thrown  up,  and  spread  out  in 
luminous  exposition :  and  though  the  processes  are 
often  imperfectly  indicated  by  which  they  have  been 


THEODORE  PARKER?S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      169 

reached,  they  so  evidently  come  from  the  deep  and 
vital  action  of  an  understanding  qualified  to  mature 
them,  that  an  opponent  who  might  stigmatize  the 
book  as  superficial,  would  never  venture  to  call  the 
author  so.  There  are  few  men  living,  we  suspect, 
who  would  like  to  have  a  controversy  with  him  on 
any  one  of  his  many  heresies.  The  references  in 
his  notes,  though  often  only  general,  are,  when  need- 
ful, sufficiently  specific  and  various  to  show  an 
extent  of  reading  truly  astonishing  in  so  young  a 
writer :  yet  the  glow  and  brilliancy  of  his  page  prove 
that  the  accumulated  mass  of  other  men's  thought 
and  learning  has  been  but  the  fuel  of  his  own  genius. 
The  copiousness  of  German  erudition,  systematized 
with  a  French  precision,  seems  here  to  have  been 
absorbed  by  a  mind  having  the  moral  massiveness, 
the  hidden  tenderness,  the  strong  enthusiasm,  of  an 
English  nature.  The  least  perfect  of  his  achieve- 
ments appears  to  us  to  be  the  metaphysical :  he  is 
too  ardent  to  preserve  self-consistency  throughout 
the  parts  of  a  large  abstract  scheme ;  too  impetuous 
for  the  fine  analysis  of  intricate  and  evanescent 
phenomena.  His  philosophical  training,  however, 
gives  him  great  advantages  in  his  treatment  of  con- 
crete things  and  his  views  of  human  affairs :  and  in 
nothing  would  he,  in  our  opinion,  more  certainly 
excel  than  in  history,  —  whether  the  history  of 
thought  and  knowledge,  or  of  society  and  institu- 
tions. As  to  the  form  in  which  our  author  presents 
his  ideas,  our  readers  must  judge  of  that  from  the 
passages  we  may  have  occasion  to  quote.  We 
have  small  patience  at  any  time  with  the  criticisms 
15 


170  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES.' 

on  style  in  which  "  Belles  Lettres  men  "  and  rheto- 
ricians delight :  and  where  we  speak  to  one  another 
of  the  solemn  mysteries  of  life  and  duty  and  God, 
such  things  affect  us  like  a  posture-master's  discus- 
sion of  Christ's  sitting  attitude  in  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount,  or  some  prudish  milliner's  critique  on  the 
penitent  wiping  his  feet  with  her  hair.  Men  who 
neither  think  nor  feel,  but  only  learn,  pretend,  and 
imitate,  may  make  an  art  out  of  the  deepest  utter- 
ances of  the  human  soul :  but  from  these  histrionic 
beings,  who  would  applaud  the  "  elocution  "  of 
Isaiah,  and  study  the  "  delivery  "  of  a  "  Father,  for- 
give them ! "  such  a  man  as  Theodore  Parker  recalls 
us  with  a  joyful  shame.  "  Thought,"  said  Plato,  "is 
the  soul's  hidden  speech  " ;  with  our  author,  and  all 
such,  we  have  the  obverse  of  this,  viz.  Speech, 
which  is  the  soul's  open  Thought.  He  reasons,  he 
meditates,  he  loves,  he  scorns,  he  weeps,  he  worships, 
aloud.  It  may  be  thought  very  improper  that  a  man 
should  thus  publish  himself \  instead  of  some  choice, 
decorous  excerpts,  "  fit  for  the  public  eye."  As,  in 
prayer  to  God,  it  is  deemed,  in  these  days,  no  sin  to 
utter,  instead  of  our  real  desires,  something  else 
which  we  should  hold  it  decent  to  desire ;  so,  in 
addressing  men,  it  is  esteemed  wise,  not  to  say,  or 
even  to  inquire,  what  we  do  think,  but  to  put  forth 
what  it  might  be  as  well  to  think.  Weary  of  all 
this,  and  finding  nothing  but  a  holy  dulness  and 
sickly  unreality  in  the  conventional  theology  of  the 
pulpit  and  the  press,  we  delight  in  our  author's  irre- 
pressible unreserve.  No  doubt  there  are  rash  judg- 
ments ;  there  is  extravagant  expression ;  the  coloring 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE   OF  RELIGION.     171 

of  his  emotions  is  sometimes  too  vivid ;  the  edge  of 
his  indignation  too  sharp.  But  he  believes,  and 
therefore  does  he  speak.  You  have  his  mind.  These 
things  are  true  to  him  :  and  if  not  true  in  themselves, 
that  is  an  objection  to  their  substance,  not  to  their 
style ;  the  excessive  force  of  which,  while  it  drives 
the  truth  the  deeper,  lays  the  error  more  open  to 
reply.  It  has  become  the  practice,  in  matters  of 
theology,  always  to  suppose  that  a  writer  acts  upon 
the  "  doctrine  of  reserve,"  —  which,  by  the  way,  Trac- 
tarian  Jesuitry  might  have  saved  itself  the  trouble  of 
recommending ;  —  it  is  thought  impossible  that  a 
divine  should  say  simply  what  he  means,  nothing 
more,  nothing  less.  Especially  if  he  recedes  from 
the  traditional  standard  of  his  class,  he  is  supposed 
to  have  "  gone  away  backward "  immeasurably  be- 
yond his  apparent  position.  The  heresies  he  pro- 
duces are  concluded  to  be  a  mere  sample  of  the 
store  he  carries  in  his  satchel :  and  every  doubt  he 
avows  becomes  a  multiplying  factor,  capable  of  in- 
definite involution,  and  sure  to  reappear  in  terrible 
dimensions  from  the  imagination  of  some  accuser. 
We  propose  it  as  a  problem  to  the  curious,  "  Why 
men,  particularly  preachers,  are  rarely  supposed  to 
believe  more  than  they  profess ;  continually,  less ; 
scarcely  ever,  precisely  that,  and  nothing  else  ?  "  Is 
the  instinctive  shrewdness  of  the  world  mistaken  in 
this  impression  ?  Not  in  the  least.  Secular  com- 
mon sense  sees  the  matter  as  it  is.  And  if  the  very 
existence  of  such  a  rule  of  interpretation  does  not 
show  how  habitual  to  the  clerical  character  pretence 
or  self-sophistication  has  become,  we  know  not  how 


172  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

to  explain  it.  Nay,  so  well  understood  is  the  shame- 
ful fact,  that  it  is  openly  alleged  as  a  reason  for  fur- 
ther unveracity.  Experienced  counsellors  speak  as 
if  it  were  a  regular  law  of  the  human  mind  to  be- 
lieve, not  just  what  is  told  it,  but  something  differ- 
ent. They  advise  us  to  compute  this  deflection,  and 
allow  for  it.  To  the  young  soul,  burning  with  guile- 
less truth  and  love,  they  say,  "  Be  cautious ;  do  not 
disturb  men's  minds  by  novelties ;  let  their  harmless 
mistakes  alone ;  they  cannot  safely  do  without  them. 
Besides,  you  will  be  sure  to  be  misunderstood,  and 
supposed  to  go  further  than  you  do.  You  will  really 
leave  '  the  truest  impression '  by  a  judicious  silence, 
or  a  mere  hint  that  these  things  are  not  to  be  put 
upon  a  level  with  '  essentials.'  "  That  is  to  say,  if 
we  would  obtain  credence,  we  must  give  forth,  not 
truth,  but  a  lie.  Past  falsehoods  are  made  the  plea 
for  present  ones ;  and  such  as  to-day  is,  will  the  mor- 
row also  be ;  and  so  on  to  the  end  of  the  chapter  of 
hypocrisy;  unless  men  arise  who  cannot  hold  the 
word  that  is  in  them,  and  will  cast  this  diplomacy  to 
the  winds.  And  after  all,  it  is  only  the  false  men 
that  can  long  "  misunderstand "  the  true ;  natural 
speech  is  not  hard  to  the  upright ;  it  can  put  no  one 
out  of  his  reckoning,  but  those  who  miss  in  it  the 
"  hints "  they  have  been  accustomed  to  calculate, 
and  their  favorite  "  silence  which  speaks  for  itself." 
Honor  then  to  the  manly  simplicity  of  Theodore 
Parker.  Perish  who  may  among  Scribes  and  Phari- 
sees, —  "  orthodox  liars  for  God,"  —  he  at  least  "  has 
delivered  his  soul." 

Of  the  noble  spirit  of  truth  that  is  in  him,  some 


, 

THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.     173 

idea  may  be  formed  from  the  following  sketch  of  the 
preaching  of  Jesus  :  — 

"  Yet  there  were  men  who  heard  the  new  word.  Truth 
never  yet  fell  dead  in  the  streets  :  it  has  such  affinity  with 
the  soul  of  man,  the  seed,  however  broadcast,  will  catch 
somewhere,  and  produce  its  hundredfold.  Some  kept  his 
sayings  and  pondered  them  in  their  heart.  Others  heard 
them  gladly.  Did  priests  and  Levites  stop  their  ears  ?  Pub- 
licans and  harlots  went  into  the  kingdom  of  God  before 
them.  Those  blessed  women,  whose  hearts  God  has  sown 
deepest  with  the  orient  pearl  of  faith  ;  they  who  ministered 
to  him  in  his  wants,  washed  his  feet  with  tears  of  penitence, 
and  wiped  them  with  the  hairs  of  their  head,  —  was  it  in  vain 
he  spoke  to  them  ?  Alas  for  the  anointed  priest,  the  child 
of  Levi,  the  son  of  Aaron,  men  who  shut  up  inspiration  in 
old  books,  and  believed  God  was  asleep.  They  stumbled 
in  darkness,  and  fell  into  the  ditch.  But  doubtless  there 
was  many  a  tear-stained  face  that  brightened  like  fires  new 
stirred  as  Truth  spoke  out  of  Jesus's  lips.  His  word  swayed 
the  multitude  as  pendant  vines  swing  in  the  summer  wind ; 
as  the  spirit  of  God  moved  on  the  waters  of  chaos,  and  said, 
'  Let  there  be  light,'  and  there  was  light.  No  doubt  many 
a  rude  fisherman  of  Gennesareth  heard  his  words  with  a 
heart  bounding  and  scarce  able  to  keep  in  his  bosom,  went 
home  a  new  man,  with  a  legion  of  angels  in  his  breast,  and 
from  that  day  lived  a  life  divine  and  beautiful.  No  doubt, 
on  the  other  hand,  Rabbi  Kozeb  Ben  Shatan,  when  he  heard 
of  this  eloquent  Nazarene,  and  his  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
said  to  his  disciples  in  private  at  Jerusalem,  This  new  doc- 
trine will  not  injure  us,  prudent  and  educated  men ;  we 
know  that  men  may  worship  as  well  out  of  the  temple  as  in 
it ;  a  burnt-offering  is  nothing ;  the  ritual  of  no  value ;  the 
Sabbath  like  any  other  day ;  the  Law  faulty  hi  many  things, 
15* 


174  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

offensive  in  some,  and  no  more  from  God  than  other  laws 
equally  good.  We  know  that  the  priesthood  is  a  human 
affair,  originated  and  managed  like  other  human  affairs. 
We  may  confess  this  to  ourselves,  but  what  is  the  use  of 
telling  it  ?  The  people  wish  to  be  deceived ;  let  them. 
The  Pharisee  will  conduct  wisely  like  a  Pharisee,  —  for  he 
sees  the  eternal  fitness  of  things,  —  even  if  these  doctrines 
should  be  proclaimed.  But  this  people,  who  know  not  the 
Law,  what  will  become  of  them  ?  Simon  Peter,  James,  and 
John,  those  poor,  unlettered  fishermen  on  the  Lake  of  Gal- 
ilee, to  whom  we  gave  a  farthing  and  the  priestly  blessing 
in  our  summer  excursion,  what  will  become  of  them  when 
told  that  every  word  of  the  Law  did  not  come  straight  out 
of  the  mouth  of  Jehovah,  and  the  ritual  is  nothing  ?  They 
will  go  over  to  the  Flesh  and  Devil,  and  be  lost.  It  is  true, 
that  the  Law  and  the  Prophets  are  well  summed  up  in  one 
word,  Love  God  and  man.  But  never  let  us  sanction  the 
saying  ;  it  would  ruin  the  seed  of  .Abraham,  keep  back  the 
kingdom  of  God,  and  '  destroy  our  usefulness.'  Thus  went 
it  at  Jerusalem.  The  new  word  was  '  Blasphemy,'  the  new 
prophet  an  '  Infidel,' '  beside  himself,' '  had  a  devil.'  But  at 
Galilee,  things  took  a  shape  somewhat  different ;  one  which 
blind  guides  could  not  foresee.  The  common  people,  not 
knowing  the  Law,  counted  him  a  prophet  come  up  from  the 
dead,  and  heard  him  gladly.  Yes,  thousands  of  men,  and 
women  also,  with  hearts  in  their  bosoms,  gathered  in  the 
field  and  pressed  about  him  in  the  city  and  the  desert  place, 
forgetful  of  hunger  and  thirst,  and  were  fed  to  the  full  with 
his  words,  so  deep  a  child  could  understand  them  ;  James 
and  John  leave  all  to  follow  him  who  had  the  word  of  eter- 
nal life  ;  and  when  that  young  carpenter  asks  Peter,  Whom 
sayest  thou  that  I  am  ?  it  has  been  revealed  to  that  poor, 
unlettered  fisherman,  not  by  flesh  and  blood,  but  by  the 
word  of  the  Lord,  and  he  can  say,  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      175 

Son  of  the  living  God.  The  Pharisee  went  his  way,  and 
preached  a  doctrine  that  he  knew  was  false  ;  the  fisherman 
also  went  his  way  ;  but  which  to  the  Flesh  and  the  Devil  ? 

"  We  cannot  tell,  no  man  can  tell,  the  feelings  which  the 
large,  free  doctrines  of  absolute  Religion  awakened  when 
heard  for  the  first  time.  There  must  have  been  many  a  Sim- 
eon waiting  for  the  consolation  ;  many  a  Mary  longing  for  the 
better  part ;  many  a  soul  in  cabins  and  cottages  and  stately 
dwellings,  that  caught  glimpses  of  the  same  truth,  as  God's 
light  shone  through  some  crevice  which  Piety  made  in  that 
wall  Prejudice  and  Superstition  had  built  up  betwixt  man 
and  God ;  men  who  scarce  dared  to  trust  that  revelation, 
— '  too  good  to  be  true,'  —  such  was  their  awe  of  Moses, 
their  reverence  for  the  priest.  To  them  the  word  of  Jesus 
must  have  sounded  divine  ;  like  the  music  of  their  home 
sung  out  in  the  sky,  and  heard  in  a  distant  land,  beguiling 
toil  of  its  weariness,  pain  of  its  sting,  affliction  of  despair. 
There  must  have  been  men,  sick  of  forms  which  had  lost 
their  meaning,  pained  with  the  open  secret  of  sacerdotal 
hypocrisy,  hungering  and  thirsting  after  the  truth,  yet 
whom  Error  and  Prejudice  and  Priestcraft  had  blinded  so 
that  they  dared  not  think  as  men,  nor  look  on  the  sun-light 
God  shed  upon  the  mind."  — B.  III.  Ch.  VII.  p.  305. 

To  discuss  worthily  any  one  of  the  many  great  top- 
ics over  which  this  volume  carries  us  is  impossible 
within  the  compass  of  a  review.  We  shall  endeav- 
or to  go  at  once  to  the  bottom  of  the  matter,  and 
fix  our  attention  on  the  real  point  of  divergence  be- 
tween the  author  and  his  opponents.  It  is  useless 
to  dispute  about  the  proof  of  the  miracles,  while  we 
are  at  issue  respecting  their  value,  when  proved ;  to 
inquire  into  the  inspiration  of  prophets  and  apostles, 
without  first  determining  what  "  inspiration  "  means ; 


176  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

to  talk  about  the  evidences  of  "  Revealed  "  Religion, 
till  we  have  agreed  upon  the  distinction  between 
"  Nature  "  and  "  Revelation  " ;  to  balance  the  com- 
parative claims  of  the  Bible  on  one  hand,  and 
"  Reason  and  Conscience  "  on  the  other,  till  we  are 
sure  that  a  book  and  a  mental  faculty  can  become 
proper  competitors,  and  find  a  common  field  of  ri- 
valry. An  inconsiderate  reasoner  is  little  aware 
how  completely  figurative  are  all  theological  formu- 
las, implying  a  whole  system  of  conceptions  which 
they  do  not  name,  and  which  may  not  be  held  in 
common  by  himself  and  his  opponent.  It  is  in  the 
suppressed  matter  of  every  religious  controversy  that 
the  real  disagreement  will  be  found :  and  until  the 
moral  and  psychological  assumptions  are  drawn  out, 
which  dictate  the  phraseology  of  belief,  discussion 
must  continue  to  be  an  aimless  battle  of  words. 

The  scheme  of  belief,  which  has  given  rise  to 
Theodore  Parker's  reaction,  may  be  summed  up  in 
these  words :  That  Christianity  is  a  divine  message, 
imparted  to  teach  us  our  duty,  and  to  present  the 
sanctions  of  a  future  life :  and  that  this  message  is 
proved  to  be  from  God,  by  accompanying  miracles, 
—  the  characteristic  marks  of  his  agency.  We  are 
so  accustomed  to  this  kind  of  language,  that  the 
real  contents  of  it  escape  our  notice.  Let  us  care- 
fully draw  out  the  conceptions  which  it  involves, 
with  respect  both  to  the  divine  nature  and  to  the  hu- 
man mind. 

As  divine  agency  has  an  appropriate  mark  by 
which  we  may  distinguish  it,  it  is  thus  separated 
from  other  agencies,  to  which  we  should  else  refer 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      177 

the  phenomena  submitted  to  our  examination.  By 
the  help  of  this  mark  we  are  enabled  to  say,  "  This 
is  from  Heaven."  Take  away  this  mark,  and  we 
can  no  longer  say,  "  This  is  from  Heaven."  God, 
therefore,  is  one  of  a  plurality  of  causes  now  opera- 
tive in  the  universe :  and  is  discriminated,  by  a  char- 
acteristic of  his  own,  from  other  members  of  the 
general  class  of  "  powers." 

The  characteristic  in  question  by  which  his  phe- 
nomena are  recognized  is  their  miraculous  nature. 
Without  pausing  to  make  any  exact  analysis  of  this 
phrase,  we  may  consider  it  as  denoting  departure 
from  Law.  This  will  be  admitted  to  be  no  incor- 
rect statement  of  the  feature  we  expect  in  any  event 
claiming  to  be  a  miracle.  In  order,  therefore,  to  res- 
cue a  phenomenon  from  other  Causes  and  refer  it  to 
God,  it  must  be  exceptional  and  out  of  course  in  re- 
lation to  the  general  order  of  the  known  world. 

So  long  as  this  peculiarity  cannot  be  shown  to  be- 
long to  it,  the  other  Causes  retain  their  claim  upon 
it,  and  the  attempt  to  refer  it  to  the  divine  agency  is 
unsuccessful.  That  is  to  say,  wherever  Law  is,  God 
is  not;  and  where  God  is,  Law  is  not.  The  bounda- 
ry line  thus  drawn,  —  where  does  it  pass  ?  what  lies 
within  it,  —  what  beyond  ?  The  realm  of  Law  is 
coextensive  with  Nature,  as  an  object  of  human 
study.  Science  is  but  our  register  of  phenomenal 
laws ;  and  nothing  which  can  ask  for  entry  there  can 
be  anomalous.  Science,  however,  is  excluded  from 
no  department  of  the  material  or  mental  creation. 
From  the  bed  of  the  ocean  to  the  clusters  of  the 
milky  way,  it  passes  with  its  detective  instruments 


178  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

of  Number  and  of  Measure,  and  never  without  the 
discovery,  or  at  least  the  augury,  of  order.  When- 
ever it  alights  on  a  fresh  region,  the  first  confusion 
begins  instantly  to  show  signs  of  an  incipient  sym- 
metry, and  the  ranks  of  established  law  pass  the 
confines  which  had  arrested  them,  and  spread  their 
lines  over  the  new  realm.  This,  then,  is  a  province 
actually  conquered  from  God;  as  philosophy,  with 
its  "  forces,"  advances,  His  power  is  dislodged  in  our 
belief,  and  retreats ;  and  every  fresh  occupation  ef- 
fected by  human  knowledge  is  an  expulsion  execut- 
ed upon  the  divine  energy.  That  this  is  the  sen- 
timent really  entertained  by  the  upholders  of  the 
prevalent  theology,  is  evident  from  the  reluctance 
with  which  they  admit  any  unexpected  extension  of 
the  dominion  of  law.  To  find  a  rule  of  order, 
where  they  had  fancied  only  insulated  and  anoma- 
lous volitions,  seems  to  them  like  a  loss  of  God. 
Who  can  doubt  that  this  feeling  is  at  the  foundation 
of  the  hostility  displayed  against  the  "  Vestiges  of  the 
Natural  History  of  Creation  "  ?  The  author  has  no 
doubt  committed  errors  in  detail,  and  availed  himself 
of  questionable  hypotheses,  in  order  to  connect  the 
parts  of  his  system,  and  complete  his  generalization. 
But  the  detection  of  these  imperfections  has  been 
sought  with  an  eagerness  not  to  be  misunderstood ; 
and  has  brought  relief  to  the  awe-struck  imagina- 
tion of  many  a  reader,  to  whom  the  spreading  tracks 
of  law,  as  they  pushed  their  prospective  deeper  and 
deeper  into  the  wilderness  of  phenomena,  seemed 
but  a  highway  for  the  exile  of  his  God.  Science 
thus  becomes  burdened  with  a  tremendous  responsi- 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      179 

bility :  wherever  it  works,  it  is  engaged  in  supersed- 
ing Deity:  it  drops,' as  a  deadly  nightshade,  on  a 
cluster  of  phenomena,  benumbing  all  that  was  di- 
vine ;  and  as  the  narcotic  circle  widens,  the  awful 
sleep  extends. 

It  would  be  unjust,  however,  to  stop  at  this 
point  in  our  development  of  the  scheme  in  question. 
Nothing  can  be  further  from  the  minds  of  its  advo- 
cates, than  to  snatch  the  whole  domain  of  law  from 
the  Supreme  Rule.  They  bring  this  also  under  the 
sway,  not  indeed  of  his  present,  but  of  his  past  voli- 
tion ;  completing  their  system  by  the  maxim,  implied 
if  not  expressed,  that  where  Law  is,  God  was.  Order, 
they  affirm,  requires  a  Mind  to  set  it  on  foot,  and 
carries  with  it  the  traces  of  antecedent  Thought: 
no  other  causes  are  adequate  for  its  explanation. 
The  theory  therefore  sums  itself  up  in  this :  that 
God,  as  an  Agent,  is  excluded  from  the  sphere  of 
Order  during  its  continuance,  but  is  required  for  its 
commencement.  "  True,"  may  the  objector  say, 
"  if  it  ever  commence  at  all.  Putting  myself  back  in 
imagination,  as  I  doubt  not  you  are  doing,  to  a  state 
of  supposed  chaos,  and  stripping  the  universe,  as  far 
as  my  conception  can  effect  it,  of  all  the  forces  which 
you  admit  to  be  operative  now,  I  may  grant  that, 
out  of  this  lawless  confusion,  law  could  not  sponta- 
neously arise ;  and  that,  if  ever  there  were  a  time 
when  Space  was  yet  a  seed-field  of  infinite,  undeter- 
mined possibilities,  nothing  but  a  Mind  could  make 
election  from  such  prior  conditions,  and  elicit  this 
definite  creation  and  no  other.  But  what  reason 
have  we  for  assuming  the  antecedence  of  any  such 


180  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

state  of  things?  "Why  am  I  to  suppose  a  time 
when  there  were  no  dynamic  elements?  What 
trace  has  electricity  or  gravity  of  a  modern  origin,  — 
of  origin  at  all  ?  If  such  power  acts  now,  —  acted 
yesterday,  —  and  has  left  its  traces  on  structures  im- 
measurably old,  —  where  is  the  date  past  which  it  is 
irrational  to  run  back  its  agency  ?  Your  proposi- 
tion therefore  is  true  as  an  hypothesis ;  but  your  hy- 
pothesis cannot  be  legitimated  as  a  reality." 

That  Order  commencing  requires  a  Mind  to  pro- 
duce it,  may  therefore  be  acknowledged  by  Atheist 
as  well  as  Theist :  that  Order  existing  is  beyond  the 
reach  of  other  and  mere  "  natural "  causes,  must  be 
denied  by  both.  Indeed,  the  assertion  is  manifestly 
false,  upon  the  principles  of  the  scheme  under  re- 
view, and  stands  in  direct  contradiction  to  its  as- 
sumption, that  where  Law  is,  God  is  not.  What 
are  those  "  other  causes  "  which  are  incompetent  to 
the  case?  Doubtless,  such  physical  forces  as  we 
have  before  referred  to,  —  electricity,  gravity,  &c. 
And  to  what  are  these  powers  adequate,  if  not  to 
produce  orderly  phenomena?  Name  the  sphere 
within  which  their  explanation  is  valid,  since  it  fails 
wherever  uniformity  is  found.  How  do  we  know 
them  as  causes  at  all,  except  by  the  regularity  of 
their  effects,  completing  a  determinate  cycle  of  suc- 
cessions, and  affording  us  fixed  rules  of  expecta- 
tion ?  What  are  all  our  books  of  Science  but  ex- 
positions of  regular  and  beautiful  phenomena, — 
nay,  of  all  the  regularity  and  beauty  within  the  cir- 
cle of  our  knowledge,  —  distinctly  referred  to  these 
very  causes  ?  They  account  for  order ;  or  they  ac- 
count for  nothing. 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      181 

Every  thing,  then,  in  this  form  of  Theism,  depends 
on  our  ability  to  find  some  proof  of  the  recency  or 
commencement  of  the  existing  "  forces  of  nature." 
Can  any  one  produce  such  proof?  Dr.  Crombie 
confesses  the  failure  of  every  attempt  at  metaphysi- 
cal demonstration  of  this  point :  and  resorts,  as  a 
last  refuge,  to  certain  physical  and  other  indications 
impressed  on  the  system  of  the  world,  at  variance, 
as  he  thinks,  with  any  great  antiquity  in  the  dy- 
namics of  the  universe.*  Of  what  kind  are  these 
indications?  Why,  the  supposed  resistance  of  an 
ether  or  of  the  sun's  light  to  the  planetary  revolu- 
tions, —  showing  that  the  solar  system  will  have  an 
end  and  must  have  had  a  beginning  :  and  the  recent 
origin  of  the  human  species.  The  known  energies 
of  nature  being  inadequate  to  account  for  the  origi- 
nation of  these  structures,  a  divine  source  is  indis- 
pensable. But  what  if,  with  our  advancing  knowl- 
edge, the  "  energies  of  nature  "  should  be  found  not 
inadequate  to  the  explanation,  and  the  effects  in 
question  should  enter  the  dominion  of  law  ?  Are 
we  in  that  case  to  turn  Atheists  ?  It  would  appear 
so,  on  this  theory;  —  a  theory,  in  which  God  is  in- 
voked only  as  a  supplementary  Cause,  to  eke  out  the 
imperfections  of  other  powers,  for  ever  spreading 
their  acknowledged  achievements  to  the  prejudice 
and  peril  of  his  sovereignty ;  and  all  is  staked  on  our 
not  finding-  a  solution  for  this  or  that  scientific  per- 
plexity. Religion  poises  itself  on  a  trembling  apex, 
if  this  be  really  the  footing  on  which  it  stands,  f 

*  Natural  Theology,  Vol.  I.  Ch.  I.  §§  10,  11. 

t  M.  Comte,  in  his  remarkable  work,  "  Cours  de  Philosophic  Posi- 

16 


182  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

The  truth  is,  the  Theist  who  takes  this  ground  has 
made  a  concession  false  in  itself,  and  fatal  to  his  ar- 
gument. Yielding  to  the  tendency,  invariably  cre- 
ated by  inductive  science,  to  confound  together  the 
notions  of  Law  and  Cause,  he  has  admitted  physical 
agencies  to  be  real  powers :  and  has  thus  put  instru- 
ments into  the  hands  of  Atheism,  with  which  he 
will  in  vain  struggle  to  contend :  his  utmost  skill  can 
give  him  only  a  drawn  battle.  Once  allow  that 
Causes  are  of  two  sorts,  living  Will  and  dead 
Forces,  and  the  competition  between  them  for  the 
governance  of  the  universe  can  never  be  determined. 
How  alone  can  we  proceed  to  make  choice  between 
two  causes,  both  claiming  the  parentage  of  a  given 
system  of  effects  ?  Assuredly,  by  seeking  through- 
out these  effects  for  some  feature  exclusively  belong- 
ing to  one  or  the  other  of  the  causes  in  question. 
And  where  we  have  to  account  for  a  limited  series 
of  phenomena,  we  may  hope  to  detect  such  signa- 
ture of  their  origin ;  they  will  display  some  peculi- 
arity in  which  they  differ  from  other  assortments  of 
phenomena,  and  will  so  teach  us  something  of  the 
nature  of  their  cause.  But  where  the  facts  are  ab- 
solutely infinite  in  number,  and  comprise  all  things, 
this  method  can  lead  to  no  result :  because  the  phe- 

tive,"  assumes  this  to  be  the  real  state  of  the  relation  between  Science 
and  Eeligion :  and  accordingly  decides  that  there  is  "  an  inevitable  an- 
tipathy between  research  into  the  real  laws  of  phenomena  and  the  in- 
quiry respecting  their  essential  causes  " :  he  treats  as  chimerical  all  at- 
tempts to  remove  the  "  radical  incompatibility  "  between  Theology  and 
Positive  Philosophy:  and,  relying  on  the  irresistible  scientific  tendency 
of  the  modern  European  mind,  entertains  confident  hopes  of  getting 
rid  of  the  "  Hypothesis  of  a  God"  !  Tome  IV.  51 e  Le<;on. 


THEODORE  PARKER*  S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      183 

nomena  observed,  not  being  this  set,  or  that  set,  but 
all  sets,  —  the  sum  total  of  what  exists  and  what 
happens  in  the  universe,  —  can  have  no  characteris- 
tic, —  no  common  property  which  other  things  have 
not ;  for  those  "  other  things  "  are  in  your  list  as  well 
as  these ;  and  it  is  only  by  characteristics  in  the  ef- 
fect, that  you  can  infer  the  nature  of  the  Cause.  A 
theology,  therefore,  which  relinquishes  the  unity  of 
causation,  and  permits  Science  to  dismember  the 
idea  and  create  a  whole  class  of  powers,  performs 
an  act  of  suicide.  By  equating  the  distinction  be- 
tween divine  and  non-divine  with  the  difference  be- 
tween natural  and  non-natural,  it  surrenders,  in  our 
opinion,  the  very  citadel  of  faith :  turns  the  universe 
from  a  monotheistic  temple  into  a  Pantheon  of  phi- 
losophy, and  whips  out  the  worshipper  to  make  way 
for  the  experimentalist. 

The  same  system  makes  assumptions  respecting 
man,  to  which  it  is  quite  as  difficult  to  give  assent, 
as  to  its  representation  of  God.  Revelation,  we  are 
assured,  is  to  be  conceived  of  as  a  message,  proved 
by  attendant  miracles  to  be  from  Heaven,  and  de- 
signed to  teach  us  our  duty  and  present  the  sanctions 
of  a  future  life.  Our  duty,  then,  is  authenticated  by 
the  message ;  and  the  message  by  the  Divine  mark. 
What  is  this  but  to  say,  that  from  God  as  known  we 
learn  duty  as  not  known  ?  Nay,  it  is  worse ;  for 
there  is  no  other  knowledge  of  God  here  supposed 
than  a  recognition  of  his  power;  and  what  is  really 
implied  is  this,  —  that  our  Senses  may  know  his 
physical  mark,  when  our  Conscience  cannot  tell  his 
moral  mark.  The  moral  faculty  is  the  dunce,  whose 


184  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

dulness  the  senses,  with  their  hornbook,  undertake 
to  instruct  in  the  laws  of  right  and  wrong.  When 
the  lesson  is  learned  by  rote,  it  is  enforced  by  the  an- 
nouncement of  future  retribution ;  and  when  carried 
into  practice  under  this  influence,  the  specific  pur- 
pose of  the  Revelation,  as  above  defined,  is  perfect- 
ly fulfilled.  Yet  it  is  plain  that  from  a  nature,  as- 
sumed to  be  insensible  to  the  intrinsic  obligation  of 
what  is  taught,  nothing  but  external  conduct,  imita- 
tive of  genuine  and  affectionate  duty,  can  be  ob- 
tained by  this  preceptive  appeal  to  self-interest.  And 
it  would  seem  to  follow,  that  Revelation  accom- 
plishes its  characteristic  end,  when  it  has  brought 
us  to  act,  from  prudential  hope  and  fear,  as  though 
we  loved  our  neighbor  and  our  God.  We  are  well 
aware  that  the  supporters  of  this  scheme  do  not 
practically  attribute  to  human  nature  the  moral 
stolidity  which  their  theory  suggests ;  they  allow  a 
considerable,  but  imperfect,  perception  of  right  and 
wrong.  This,  however,  relieves  no  difficulty,  and  is 
an  ineffectual  compromise.  The  duties  taught  by 
the  Revelation  either  accord  with  the  moral  percep- 
tion addressed,  or  do  not  accord  with  it.  If  they  do, 
then  nothing  beyond  the  natural  law  is  given  us.  If 
they  do  not,  then  a  collision  arises  between  the  re- 
quirements of  miracle  and  the  dictates  of  nature ; 
and  as  the  physical  sign  of  God  is  assumed  by  the 
theory  to  be  better  known  by  us  than  his  moral  trace, 
and  for  this  very  reason  adopted  as  the  instrument 
of  instruction,  we  ought  at  once  to  renounce  the 
suggestions  of  Conscience,  and  do  any  wicked- 
ness which  "  the  wonderful  work  "  may  recommend. 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OP  RELIGION.    185 

Whoever  shrinks  from  this  conclusion  acknowledges 
that  miracle  cannot  override  Reason  and  Conscience  ; 
that  these  powers  have  a  veto  on  all  professing  en- 
actments of  almighty  law ;  and  supply  a  paramount 
natural  inspiration  diviner  than  any  that  is  super- 
natural. 

We  are  convinced  that,  notwithstanding  all  that  is 
said  in  praise  of  the  "miraculous  evidence,"  it  is 
gradually  loosening  its  hold  on  the  minds  even  of  its 
defenders.  The  indications  of  this  are  not  to  be 
mistaken.  Attention  is  more  and  more  drawn  in 
and  concentrated  upon  the  great  strong-hold,  which 
we  believe  to  be  impregnable, — the  resurrection  of 
Christ,  —  an  event  whose  testimonial  character  is,  to 
say  the  least,  very  subordinate  to  its  higher  rela- 
tions. The  other  miracles,  so  far  from  being  deemed 
available  as  media  of  proof,  are  usually  treated  as 
the  great  objects  of  proof.  They  were  once  the  affi- 
davit; they  are  now  the  brief.  And  only  those  of 
them  are  heartily  referred  to,  in  which  the  credential 
element  is  lost  and  absorbed  in  their  character  of 
majesty  or  mercy,  which  enables  the  moral  affections 
to  quiet  the  cross-questionings  of  the  understanding. 
Miracles  in  which  the  pure  evidential  ingredient  is 
found  unmixed,  lie  in  the  most  unaccountable  dis- 
use, and  appear  even  to  excite  an  uncomfortable 
feeling.  That  Jesus  paid  a  tax  by  having  a  fish 
caught  with  a  shekel  in  his  mouth,  is  not  adduced  to 
convince  the  doubting,  of  his  divine  authority:  nor 
do  we  hear  Paul's  mission  argued  from  the  miracles 
wrought  by  his  apron.  Why  not  ?  These  are  gen- 
uine "  signs"  empty  of  all  value  except  their  signifi- 
16* 


186  MARTINEAU'g    MISCELLANIES. 

cance  as  evidence:  this  however  remains  quite  per- 
fect in  them ;  for  they  are  surely  as  good  proofs  of 
superhuman  power  as  any  other  miracles.  They 
rest  on  the  same  testimony  as  the  events  most  firmly 
believed.  Yet  is  there  any  one  who  does  not  feel, 
that  the  testimony  will  scarcely  bear  the  strain  of 
these  events?  And  who  then  will  deny,  that  it  is 
the  moral  element  of  Christian  history  that  must 
authenticate  the  miraculous,  not  the  miraculous  that 
authenticates  the  moral  ? 

The  whole  language  of  this  scheme  involves  con- 
ceptions unworthy  of  the  present  capabilities,  often 
below  the  present  state,  of  religion  among  thoughtful 
and  devout  men.  For  the  first  disciples,  themselves 
on  earth,  and  constantly  looking  for  Christ's  return 
hither,  it  was  only  natural  to  imagine  two  spheres  of 
being,  with  the  wilderness  of  clouds  and  space  be- 
tween; the  one,  the  scene  of  God's  local  presence, 
where  Jesus  "  sat  at  the  right  hand  of  God  " :  the 
other,  this  world  of  waiting  and  of  exile,  which  had 
nothing  divine  but  as  an  express  emanation  from 
that  upper  sphere.  Filled  with  the  fancy  of  a  phys- 
ical distance  between  heavenly  and  human  things, 
they  fitly  spoke  of  Messengers  and  Ambassadors  of 
God,  as  we  should  of  visitants  from  a  foreign  poten- 
tate. To  treat  the  miracles  as  Credentials  was  a 
suitable  thing,  when  such  acts,  though  out  of  nature 
upon  this  lower  earth  and  among  ordinary  men, 
were  regarded  as  the  established  ways  of  the  upper 
world  to  which  Messiah  belonged,  and  accepted  as 
the  overflow  of  his  diviner  nature  upon  his  mortal 
career.  And  there  was  something  in  the  way  of 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      187 

positive  information,  startling  enough  to  be  described 
as  a  Message  from  God,  to  those  who  thought  them- 
selves apprised  of  the  speedy  Advent  and  approach- 
ing end  of  the  world.  This  was  to  them  a  notice  of 
an  historic  event,  which  would  affect  their  whole 
course  of  action  in  the  mean  while.  But  all  this  is 
incapable  of  harmonizing  with  our  altered  state. 
Our  outward  universe,  our  personal  expectations,  are 
totally  different  from  theirs.  Their  one  world,  store- 
house of  heavenly  things,  has  burst  into  ten  thou- 
sand spheres,  not  one  of  which  is  nearer  to  the  awful 
presence  than  our  own.  We  are  not  remote  from 
our  Father,  that  he  should  have  to  send  to  us ;  there 
is  no  interval  between.  Nor  are  the  universal  prin- 
ciples of  Faith  and  Duty,  which  constitute  the  es- 
sence of  Christianity,  so  strange  to  our  nature,  that 
we  should  treat  them  as  a  communication  from  for- 
eign parts.  There  is  no  going  and  coming,  no  tele- 
graph, or  embassage,  no  interposition  and  retreat,  no 
divine  sleeping  and  waking,  in  pure  religion.  The 
human  race  is  for  ever  at  home  with  God ;  and  his 
Inspiration,  intensest  in  the  soul  of  the  Galilean,  is 
fresh  and  open  for  every  age. 

The  recoil  of  Theodore  Parker  from  the  received 
system  is  vehement,  and,  we  certainly  think,  exces- 
sive. But  there  is  great  difficulty  in  giving  an  ac- 
count of  his  scheme  as  a  whole :  for  he  is  not  an 
exact  writer,  scarcely  a  consistent  thinker ;  and  his 
convictions  are  rather  a  series  of  noble  fragments, 
waiting  adjustment  by  maturer  toil,  than  a  compact 
and  finished  structure.  His  vast  reading,  and  his 
quick  sympathy  with  what  is  great  and  generous  of 


188  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

every  kind,  have  given  an  eclectic  character  to  his 
philosophy.  His  mind  refuses  to  let  go  any  thing 
that  is  true  and  excellent;  yet  in  adopting  it  takes 
insufficient  pains  to  weave  it  into  the  fabric  of  his 
previous  thought;  so  that  the  texture  of  his  faith 
presents  a  pattern  not  easy  to  reduce  to  symmetry. 
At  one  time  he  hates  evil,  like  a  Dualist ;  at  another, 
pities  it,  like  a  Fatalist ;  now,  melts  away  the  hu- 
man soul  and  becomes  lost  in  the  Universal  Being, 
like  a  mystic ;  and  then,  brings  out  the  individual 
free-will  again  with  force  and  prominence  worthy  of 
a  Stoic.  Zeno  and  Spinoza  seem  to  us  to  coexist 
in  his  mind ;  but  they  have  not  struck  up  a  mutual 
acquaintance. 

Our  author  argues  from  the  religiosity  of  man  to 
the  reality  of  God ;  and  concurs  with  Schleierrnacher 
in  regarding  the  Sense  of  Dependence  as  the  source 
of  human  faith.  The  Sentiment  of  religion,  like  any 
other  primitive  want  of  our  nature,  doubtless  directs 
itself  to  an  object,  not  illusory,  but  actual ;  and  that 
we  "  feel  after  "  a  perfect  Being  is  enough  to  prove 
that  he  exists,  and  that  we  can  "  find  Him."  Thus 
is  legitimated  the  "  intuitive  Idea  of  God,"  which  is 
said  to  be  the  idea  of  "  a  Being  infinite  in  Power, 
Wisdom,  and  Goodness."  Of  this  "  Idea  "  many 
things  are  affirmed,  to  which,  we  must  confess,  we 
can  attribute  no  defensible  meaning.  It  is  said*  to 
be  the  "  logical  condition  of  all  other  ideas  "  (p.  21) ; 
and  yet  to  be  "  afterwards  fundamentally  and  log- 
ically established  by  the  a  priori  argument"  (p.  23). 
What  media  of  proof  can  "  establish  "  that  which 
is  the  logical  condition  of  those  very  media  ?  It  is 


THEODORE  PARKER5S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      189 

also  said  to  be  primitive  and  simple,  like  the  idea  of 
"  existence  "  (p.  22)  :  and  it  puzzles  us  to  think  how 
that  which  is  perfectly  unique  and  simple,  and  des- 
titute of  characteristics,  can  be  "  logically  estab- 
lished." And  the  account  which  our  author  gives 
of  this  Idea  does  "  not"  he  assures  us,  "  define  the 
nature  of  God,  but  does  distinguish  our  idea  of  him 
from  all  other  ideas  and  conceptions  whatever." 
This  appears  to  us  simply  self-contradictory:  and 
we  cannot  deny  that  there  are  many  other  things  of 
the  same  sort.  We  could  easily  dismiss  blemishes 
of  this  kind,  arising  from  insufficient  precision,  if  the 
looseness  did  not  accumulate  and  condense  itself 
into  a  doctrinal  conception  very  seductive,  but,  in 
our  opinion,  very  erroneous.  The  oscillation  back 
from  the  atheistical  tendencies  of  a  cold  and  me- 
chanical philosophy  has  generally  flung  the  reasoner 
into  Pantheism  :  and  our  author  has  not,  in  our 
opinion,  escaped  the  danger,  —  if,  at  least,  we  must 
judge  by  the  words  of  his  theory,  rather  than  by  the 
spirit  of  his  mind.  Offended  at  the  usurpation  ef- 
fected by  "  natural  powers,"  he  has  swept  them  all 
away,  and  drowned  them  in  the  ocean  of  the  One 
Supreme.  Shocked  at  the  banishment  of  God  as  a 
living  Agent  from  the  actual  scenes  and  recent  ages 
of  this  world,  he  has  revoked  the  Almighty  Presence 
with  such  power  as  to  make  an  absence  of  all  else ; 
and  when  we  look  round  for  the  objects  that  should 
be  His  correlatives,  the  beings  that  should  receive 
His  regards,  the  theatre  that  was  waiting  for  His 
energy,  they  are  gone.  Perhaps  we  shall  be  asked, 
"  What  then  ?  Can  there  be  in  human  faith  an  excess 


190  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

of  Deity  ?  Is  there  any  thing  you  would  care  to  save 
from  the  general  merging  of  all  inferior  causes?" 
Yes ;  we  reply,  there  is  one  thing  that  must  not  be 
overwhelmed,  even  by  an  invasion  of  the  Infinite 
Glory.  Let  all  besides  perish,  if  you  will ;  but  when 
you  open  the  windows  of  heaven  upon  this  godless 
earth,  and  bring  back  the  sacred  flood  to  swallow  up 
each  brute  rebellious  power,  let  there  be  an  ark  of 
safety  built  (it  is  Heaven's  own  warning  word)  to 
preserve  the  Human  Will  from  annihilation  :  for  if 
this  sink  too,  the  divine  irruption  designed  to  purify 
does  but  turn  creation  into  a  vast  Dead  Sea  occu- 
pied by  God.  Theodore  Parker  has  failed  to  per- 
ceive this.  The  more  effectually  to  contradict  the 
system  which  makes  the  Creative  Power  only  One 
Cause  among  many,  he  has  represented  it  as  the 
Solitary  Cause.  Our  author  seems  aware  that  he 
is  open  to  this  criticism  :  and  as  we  should  be  sor- 
ry to  be  confounded  with  the  alarmists  who  have 
raised  the  cry  against  him  in  his  own  land,  we  will 
state  more  precisely  the  ground  of  our  objection  to 
his  theory.  He  observes :  — 

"  The  charge  of  Pantheism  is  very  vague,  and  is  usually 
urged  by  such  as  know  least  of  its  meaning.  He  who  con- 
ceives of  God,  as  the  immanent  cause  of  all  things,  as  in- 
finitely present,  and  infinitely  active,  with  no  limitations, 
is  sure  to  be  called  a  Pantheist  in  these  days,  as  he  would 
have  passed  for  an  Atheist  two  centuries  ago.  Some  who 
have  been  called  by  this  easy  and  obnoxious  name,  both  in 
ancient  and  in  modern  times,  have  been  philosophical  de- 
fenders of  the  doctrine  of  one  God,  but  have  given  him  the 
historical  form  neither  of  Brahma  nor  Jehovah." — B.  I. 
Ch.  V.  §  2,  p.  94. 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      191 

Now,  if  one  who  denied  the  Divine  absenteeism 
from  creation  and  life,  as  they  now  are,  or,  what  is 
equivalent,  the  Divine  inertness  within  them,  were 
justly  called  a  Pantheist,  we  should  glory  in  the 
name.  We  do  not  believe  in  epochs  of  Creative  ac- 
tivity, exceptional  to  the  general  constancy  of  a  god- 
less repose.  With  the  prophet  of  old,  we  should  be 
ashamed  to  think  of  the  everlasting  Hope  of  men, 
"  as  a  Stranger  in  the  land,  and  as  a  Wayfarer  that 
turneth  aside  to  tarry  for  a  night."  *  His  work  is 
bounded  by  no  chronological  conditions,  and  is  nei- 
ther old  nor  new.  His  dial  indicates  always  the 
same  hour  of  eternity :  its  infinite  shadow  never 
moves ;  flung  across  the  universe,  it  eclipses  no  liv- 
ing world,  but  darkens  only  death  and  the  abyss. 
His  agency  is  no  intermittent  tide,  carrying  a  shift- 
ing wave  of  glory  from  sphere  to  sphere,  from  cen- 
tury to  century,  and  leaving  a  dreary  strand  of  de- 
sertion between,  strewed  only  with  the  wrecks  of  the 
receding  God.  The  legendary  Creation-week,  the 
consecrated  date  of  our  childish  thought,  has  long 
since  burst  open,  as  the  capsule  of  illimitable  ages, 
through  all  of  which  the  Productive  Will  has  been 
as  fresh  and  fertile  as  at  the  moment  when  "  light 
was."  We  protest  against  the  ascription  of  causality 
to  the  "  laws  of  nature  "  which  Science  investigates. 
The  methods  of  Science  can  teach  us  nothing  but 
the  order  of  phenomenal  succession  to  which  our 
expectations  are  to  adjust  themselves ;  and  this,  in 
spite  of  all  the  special  pleading  of  "  acute  analysis," 

*  Jer.  xiv.  8. 


192  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

does  not  fulfil  our  idea  of  Causation.  The  mind  de- 
mands a  Power  beneath  the  surface  over  which  sense 
and  observation  range,  to  evolve  this  serial  order,  to 
marshal  the  punctual  ranks  of  beneficent  and  beauti- 
ful events,  to  measure  the  invariable  cycles,  and  beat 
time  to  the  listening  seasons.  We  think  that  that 
Power  cannot  in  reason  be  otherwise  conceived  than 
as  the  Living  Will  of  God.  So  far,  therefore,  as  out- 
ward nature  is  concerned,  we  are  far  from  objecting 
to  sink  all  its  so-called  "  forces,"  and  to  regard  them 
as  so  many  manners  of  divine  agency.  "  This  view 
seems "  to  us,  not  only  "  at  first,"  (as  our  author 
says,)  but  to  the  end, 

"...  congenial  to  a  poetic  and  religious  mind.  If  the 
world  be  regarded  as  a  collection  of  powers,  —  the  awful 
force  of  the  storm,  of  the  thunder,  of  the  earthquake  ;  the 
huge  magnificence  of  the  ocean,  in  its  slumber  or  its  wrath ; 
the  sublimity  of  the  ever-during  hills  ;  the  rocks,  which  re- 
sist all  but  the  unseen  hand  of  time  ;  these  might  lead  to 
the  thought  that  they  were  God.  If  men  looked  at  the 
order,  fitness,  beauty,  love,  everywhere  apparent  in  na- 
ture, the  impression  is  confirmed.  The  All  of  things  ap- 
pears so  beautiful  to  the  comprehensive  eye,  that  we  almost 
think  it  is  its  own  Cause  and  Creator.  The  animals  find 
their  support  and  their  pleasure  ;  the  painted  leopard  and 
the  snowy  swan,  each  living  by  its  own  law  ;  the  bird  of 
passage  that  pursues,  from  zone  to  zone,  its  unmarked  path  ; 
the  summer  warbler  which  sings  out  its  melodious  exist- 
ence in  the  woodbine  ;  the  flowers  that  come  unasked, 
charming  the  youthful  year ;  the  golden  fruit  maturing  in 
its  wilderness  of  green  ;  the  dew  and  the  rainbow  ;  the 
frost-flake  and  the  mountain  snow  ;  the  glories  that  wait 
upon  the  morning,  or  sing  the  sun  to  his  ambrosial  rest ; 


THEODORE  PARKER?S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      193 

the  pomp  of  the  sun  at  noon,  amid  the  clouds  of  a  June 
day  ;  the  awful  pomp  of  night,  when  all  the  stars  with  a 
serene  step  come  out,  and  tread  their  round,  and  seem  to 
watch  in  blest  tranquillity  about  the  slumbering  world  ;  the 
moon  waning  and  waxing,  walking  in  beauty  through  the 
night ;  —  daily  the  water  is  rough  with  the  winds  ;  they  come 
or  abide  at  no  man's  bidding,  and  roll  the  yellow  corn,  or 
wake  religious  music  at  nightfall  in  the  pines  :  these  things 
are  all  so  fair,  so  wondrous,  so  wrapt  in  mystery,  it  is  no 
marvel  that  men  say,  this  is  divine.  Yes,  the  All  is  God. 
He  is  the  light  of  the  morning,  the  beauty  of  the  noon,  and 
the  strength  of  the  sun.  The  little  grass  grows  by  his 
presence.  He  preserveth  the  cedars.  The  stars  are  se- 
rene because  he  is  in  them.  The  lilies  are  redolent  of  God. 
He  is  the  One  ;  the  All."—  B.  I.  Ch.  V.  §  2,  p.  89. 

Our  author  professes  to  discard  the  view  which 
he  has  thus  unfolded  with  so  much  beauty.  Yet 
he  appears  to  us  to  adopt  it  entire,  and  to  com- 
plete it  by  applying  the  very  same  mode  of  thought 
to  the  mental  world,  which  is  here  restricted  to  the 
material.  He  is  like  many  a  deep  thinker,  who, 
when  sent  by  Spinoza  into  his  field  of  speculation, 
might  say,  "  I  go  not "  ;  but  afterwards  went.  We 
wish  he  had  definitely  stated  the  reasons  for  either 
his  supposed  repudiation,  or  his  apparent  adoption, 
of  the  doctrine.  In  the  absence  of  such  guidance 
from  him,  we  must  explain,  that  the  very  ground  of 
our  own  assent  to  the  physical  half  of  the  theory, 
as  just  presented,  is  also  the  ground  of  our  dis- 
sent from  the  other  half.  With  our  obstinate  no- 
tions, the  reasons  for  advancing  thus  far  absolutely 
forbid  us  to  move  a  step  further  :  but,  with  more 
17 


194  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

open  temper,  our  generous  friend,  if  Philosophy  com- 
pel him  to  go  one  mile,  will  go  with  her  (or,  may 
be,  without  her)  twain.  In  the  present  instance, 
what  is  it  which  induces  us  to  put  denial  on  the 
whole  system  of  scientific  "  forces  " ;  to  insist  that 
God  —  Spirit  though  he  is  —  is  not  hindered,  by  any 
veil  of  "  nature,"  from  himself  putting  the  beauty 
and  the  wonder  into  the  smallest  of  his  works  ;  and 
to  proclaim  all  the  laws  of  the  unreflecting  universe 
the  action  of  his  Mind  ?  It  is  simply  this,  —  the 
conviction  that  there  is,  and,  for  us,  can  be,  no  other 
Causation  than  the  intelligent  and  voluntary ;  that 
no  second  sort  of  originating  energy  is  at  all  conceiv- 
able ;  and  that,  in  the  last  analysis,  such  phrases  as 
"  inanimate  power  "  involve  a  contradiction.  We 
are  persuaded  that  no  observation  of  consecutive 
phenomena  could  ever  give  us  the  notion  of  power  ; 
that  the  conscious  rising  of  effort  against  resistance 
is  the  real  source  of  the  idea;  and  that  Cause  and 
Will  mean  at  bottom  the  same  thing.  The  experi- 
ence of  Causation  in  ourselves  is  the  birthplace  of 
all  our  knowledge  and  thought  upon  this  matter ; 
our  whole  language  on  the  subject  has  no  meaning 
whatever,  except  as  it  keeps  close  to  this  experience ; 
for  nothing  new  is  afterwards  added  to  it,  though  the 
benumbing  influence  of  time  may  take  something 
from  it.  When  the  wondering  child  asks  what  it  is, 
or,  as  he  will  always  say,  who  it  is,  that  bends  the 
rainbow,  or  hangs  up  the  moon,  he  dreams  of  noth- 
ing else  than  of  some  living  hand  directed  by  intend- 
ing thought.  That  is  an  originating  cause  well 
known  to  him :  there  is  no  other  possible  to  his 


THEODORE  PARKERS  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      195 

conception  then;  no  one  can  pretend  that  his  sub- 
sequent experience  gives  him  any  closer  insight  into 
the  nature  of  power :  and  we  believe,  therefore,  that 
he  will  never  be  nearer  the  truth  than  when,  under 
the  intuitive  feeling,  common  to  him  and  Herschel 
and  Archimedes,  that  '  every  phenomenon  must 
have  a  cause,'  he  attributes  what  he  sees  to  an  un- 
seen and  acting  mind.  No  later  discoveries,  we  do 
submit,  can  show  the  faintest  right  to  correct  this 
earliest  impression.  They  only  stupefy  the  first  star- 
tled sentiment,  and  turn  aside  the  questionings  of 
reverent  curiosity  to  make  room  for  the  researches 
of  practical  utility.  For  the  satisfaction  of  faith  we 
want  to  conceive  of  the  Cause,  for  the  service  of 
life  we  want  to  find  the  order,  of  the  events  around 
us.  The  latter  inquiry,  in  which  we  make  continual 
progress,  encroaches  on  the  former,  which  remains  to 
the  manhood  of  our  race  the  same  mystery  that 
brooded  around  its  infancy.  And  while  Custom 
gradually  lays  devout  wonder  into  sleep,  Science 
unhappily  pilfers  its  language  lying  unguarded  by 
its  side ;  antecedents  are  labelled  Causes,  and  laws 
become  powers  ;  the  knowledge  of  nature  gets  sur- 
reptitiously baptized  into  the  waters  of  faith,  and 
goes  through  the  world  with  a  Christian  name,  but 
with  a  Pagan  spirit.  When  thus  arrogating  the 
place  of  Religion,  Science,  with  its  stock  of  "  forces  " 
behind  every  cluster  of  phenomena,  is  but  the  athe- 
istic Fetichism  of  our  days  ;  and  there  is  at  heart  no 
meaner  superstition  than  its  dynamic  worship.  The 
Indian  makes  gestures  in  his  wigwam  before  his 
"  medicine-bag,"  praying  to  the  Spirits  of  power  that 


196  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

rule  his  world  :  and  the  philosopher,  —  down  he 
goes  prostrate  in  the  musings  of  his  library,  before 
his  electricity  and  his  nebular  hypotheses,  and  his 
corpuscular  attractions,  —  putting  his  trust  in  powers 
of  Matter  that  govern  the  universe.  Fetichism  was 
not  wrong  in  setting  a  background  of  living  Will 
behind  the  objects  and  appearances  of  nature ;  but 
in  the  multitude  and  isolation  of  its  unseen  Agents. 
The  Idolatry  of  Science  has  retained  the  multitude, 
and  taken  away  the  living  Will.  The  simplicity  of 
Monotheism  cancels  the  pretended  host,  and  takes 
the  collective  universe  as  the  symbol  of  the  Omni- 
present and  the  Omni-active  Mind. 

Now  if  it  is  the  consciousness  of  Will  in  ourselves 
that  sets  us  on  search  for  a  Will  that  rules  the  world, 
we  must  attribute  to  Him  whom  our  faith  may  find 
the  very  kind  of  power  which  belongs  to  us ;  and 
we  must  retain  in  us  the  power  we  ascribe  to  Him. 
But  this  is  what  Pantheism  declines  to  do.  As  soon 
as  it  has  found  its  Source  of  the  world,  it  abdicates 
the  very  faculties  that  impelled  it  on  its  holy  pilgrim- 
age. It  recognizes  in  Him,  not  only  the  pervading 
Life  of  nature,  but  the  Autocrat,  or  rather  the  very 
Essence,  of  the  Soul.  The  believer  insists  on  self- 
annihilation  ;  says  he  has  no  power  of  his  own  ;  is 
as  water  under  the  finger  of  God ;  is  cause  of  noth- 
ing ;  scarcely  even  an  effect ;  only  a  phenomenon ; 
a  flake  of  snow  falling  on  the  mighty  river.  And  so 
he  dissolves  himself  away.  Now,  if  this  be  true,  and 
he  could  only  have  perceived  it  at  first,  then,  having 
no  causation  within  him,  he  would  have  sought  and 
discovered  none  without  him  ;  and  to  him  there 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      197 

would  have  been  no  God.  By  knowing  the  truth, 
he  would  have  been  plunged  into  the  most  tremen- 
dous of  falsehoods  ;  and  it  is  only  by  assuming  a 
falsehood  that  he  can  reach  the  sublimest  of  truths! 
Religious  faith  can  never  be  of  this  parricidal  nature, 
devouring  its  own  premises. 

And  it  is  curious  to  observe  the  action  and  re- 
action of  this  mode  of  thought,  in  its  alternate  in- 
fluence on  life  and  on  religion.  When  the  theorist 
has  got  rid  of  his  Free-will  and  entire  individuality 
in  his  sense  of  Deity,  he  has  stopped,  as  far  as  prac- 
ticable, and  sealed  up  the  proper  sources  of  his  feel- 
ing of  causalty ;  he  seeks  to  be  disposed  of  with  a 
serene  fitness  to  the  Divine  Thought  :  his  active 
energies  decline ;  his  only  aim  is  to  suffer  without  a 
murmur  in  evidence  of  utter  self-renunciation  :  he 
dreams  and  mortifies  his  life  away.  Human  nature, 
attenuated  to  this  state,  is  no  longer  qualified  to  fur- 
vnish,  from  its  self-consciousness,  the  true  and  noble 
type  of  God  :  voluntary  purpose,  with  the  mental 
and  moral  attributes  associated  with  it,  is  less  and 
less  attributed  to  him  :  the  sickliness,  which  descend- 
ed at  first  from  the  too  overshadowing  thought  of 
Him,  returns  upwards  and  infects  the  conception  of 
his  Infinite  nature;  till  He  is  dishonored  into  Na- 
ture's animal  life  or  transmigrating  principle  ;  the 
spiritual  mysticism  completes  its  metaphysic  revo- 
lution ;  and  having  lifted  itself  into  too  thin  an  air 
of  contemplation,  plunges  down  and  dies  in  the  mire 
of  a  gross  idolatry. 

For  these  reasons  among  others,  we  esteem  it  of 
the  highest  moment  to  protect  from  embarrassment 
17* 


198  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  consciousness  in  man  that  he  is  a  Cause  in 
himself;  and  to  prevent  the  slightest  loosening  of 
the  idea  of  WILL  from  the  conception  of  God.  And 
as  the  Will  is  that  in  which  Personality  resides,  this 
is  the  same  thing  as  to  say,  that  we  must  hold  fast 
to  the  faith  of  a  Personal  God.  We  strongly  object 
to  much  of  Theodore  Parker's  language  on  this  sub- 
ject. If,  indeed,  he  uniformly  adhered  to  the  defini- 
tion already  given,  "  a  Being  infinite  in  Power, 
Wisdom,  and  Goodness,"  all  would  be  well ;  for  it 
is  to  save  these  very  attributes  from  being  frittered 
away,  that  we  insist  so  strenuously  on  retaining  the 
analogy  between  man  and  God  in  the  quality  of 
Will.  Without  this,  as  we  have  shown,  there  is  no 
"  Power  "  ;  without  this,  —  the  faculty  which  directs 
itself  to  preconceived  ends,  —  how  can  there  be 
•"  Wisdom "  ?  without  this,  by  which  selection  is 
made  among  undetermined  possibilities,  how  can 
those  exclusions  take  place  which  leave  the  ways  of 
Heaven  "  good,"  and  good  alone  ?  And  if  Will  be 
indispensable,  we  know  not  how  it  is  possible  to 
satisfy  our  author's  yearning  after  a  God  wholly 
"  Absolute  "  and  "  without  limitations."  Is  it  possi- 
ble to  conceive  of  Will,  and  the  moral  attributes  in- 
volving it,  entirely  insulated,  and  acting  without  any 
extrinsic  conditions  ?  Can  there  be  qucesita  without 
any  data  ?  We  do  confess  that  our  notions  of  either 
Mind  or  Character  lose  their  ground  and  vanish  in 
this  attempt  to  destroy  all  the  Divine  relations.  A 
Deity,  to  be  thought  of  first  as  a  lonely  Unity,  then 
self-evolved  into  a  creation,  whose  material  forms 
are  the  development  of  his  extension,  whose  minds 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      199 

of  bis  consciousness,  appears  to  us  to  be  fatally  re- 
mote from  any  possible  trust,  and  love,  and  aspira- 
tion in  our  hearts.  We  lament,  therefore,  that  our 
author  should  have  committed  himself  to  such  posi- 
tions as  these  :  that  God  is  "  not  Personal  nor  Im- 
personal" (p.  160);  that  "our  human  personality 
gives  a  false  modification  to  all  our  conceptions  of 
the  infinite  "  (p.  27) ;  that  He  is  "  the  reality  of  all 
appearance "  (p.  164) ;  "  the  Absolute  ground  "  of 
"  nature  "  and  "  the  soul "  (p.  21)  ;  "  the  substantiali- 
ty of  matter "  (p.  170)  ;  "  the  spirituality  of  spirit " 
(p.  182).  If  God  be  thus  both  the  essence  and  the 
phenomena  of  matter  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  mind 
on  the  other,  his  Being  coincides  with  the  whole  of 
the  two  hemispheres  which  compose  our  universe : 
nothing  is  left  over  to  be  matter,  or  to  be  mind :  He 
and  the  "  All  of  things  "  are  identified  ;  and  scarcely 
even  does  the  distinction  remain  between  the  "  natu- 
ra  naturans  "  and  the  "  natura  naturata."  The  re- 
lation of  Cause  and  Effect  is  exchanged,  in  the  phra- 
seology we  have  quoted,  for  that  of  Substance  and 
Quality ;  and  whenever  this  is  resorted  to  in  order  to 
represent  the  connection  between  God  and  the  world, 
we  are  on  the  traces  of  a  Pantheism  far  from  harm- 
less. 

On  the  whole,  the  fundamental  formulas  of  the 
several  theories  may  perhaps  be  justly  presented 
thus.  The  prevalent  system  says :  Phenomena  re- 
quire a  Cause ;  Where  Law  is  not,  the  Cause  is 
God ;  Where  Law  is,  God  is  not,  but  was  the 
Cause.  Pantheism  says  :  Transient  phenomena  re- 
quire an  Absolute  ground,  as  quality  is  the  predicate 


200  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

of  substance ;  that  Absolute  ground  is  God.  The 
scheme  which  appears  to  us  most  true  says :  Where 
phenomena  are,  a  Cause  is  ;  Cause  implies  Will ; 
and  (within  the  sphere  of  our  observation)  all  be- 
yond the  range  of  Human  Will  is  Divine  Will.  Ac- 
cording to  the  first  view,  God  is,  to  us,  one  Cause 
among  many ;  according  to  the  second,  He  is  one 
and  All ;  according  to  the  third,  He  is  one  of  Two. 

And  now  that  we  have  discharged  our  conscience 
in  this  matter,  let  us  say  that  our  protest  against 
Theodore  Parker's  statements  is  occasioned  more  by 
the  probable  tendencies  of  thought  in  his  readers' 
minds,  than  by  what  we  suppose  to  be  his  own. 
We  do  not  believe  that  he  is  at  all  deeply  tinctured 
with  Pantheism.  Expressions  drop  from  him  con- 
tinually which  are  wholly  incompatible  with  the 
doctrines  we  have  condemned.  He  speaks,  for  in- 
stance, of  the  different  orders  of  things  "  receiving 
each  as  high  a  mode  of  divine  influence  as  its  sev- 
eral nature  will  allow "  (p.  174) ;  and  he,  therefore, 
undeniably  recognizes  some  rerum  naturam,  as  a 
condition  or  datum  for  the  reception  of  divine  power. 
Indeed,  the  whole  spirit  and  character  of  the  book 
proclaim  its  affinities  with  a  school  quite  remote 
from  the  Spinozistic.  The  author  has  nowhere 
stated  the  principles  of  his  ethical  doctrine,  or  bridged 
over  the  chasm  which  separates  it  from  his  theology. 
But  the  purity  and  depth  of  his  conceptions  of  char- 
acter, his  intense  abhorrence  of  falsehood  and  evil, 
the  moral  loftiness  of  his  devotion,  and  the  generous 
severity  of  his  rebuke,  are  in  the  strongest  contradic- 
tion to  serene  complacency  of  a  mind,  suspended  in 


THEODORE  PARKER?S  DISCOURSE   OF   RELIGION.      201 

metaphysic  elevation  above  the  point  where  truth 
and  error,  right  and  wrong,  diverge,  and  looking 
down  from  a  station  whence  all  things  appear  equal- 
ly divine.  Hear  the  account  he  gives  of  "  Solid 
Piety,"  or  "Love  before  God  "  :  — 

"  Its  Deity  is  the  God  of  Love,  within  whose  encircling 
arms  it  is  beautiful  to  be.  The  demands  it  makes  are  to 
keep  the  Law  he  has  written  in  the  heart,  to  be  good,  to 
do  good ;  to  love  man,  to  love  God.  It  may  use  forms, 
prayers,  dogmas,  ceremonies,  priests,  temples,  sabbaths, 
festivals,  and  fasts,  yes,  sacrifices  if  it  will,  as  means,  not 
ends  ;  symbols  of  a  sentiment,  not  substitutes  for  it.  Its 
substance  is  love  of  God  ;  its  form,  love  of  man  ;  its  temple, 
a  pure  heart  ;  its  sacrifice,  a  divine  life.  The  end  it  pro- 
poses is,  to  reunite  the  man  with  God,  till  he  thinks  God's 
thought,  which  is  Truth  ;  feels  God's  feeling,  which  is 
Love  ;  wills  God's  will,  which  is  the  eternal  Right :  thus 
finding  God  in  the  sense  wherein  he  is  not  far  from  any 
one  of  us  ;  becoming  one  with  him,  and  so  partaking  the 
divine  nature.  The  means  to  this  high  end  are  an  extinc- 
tion of  all  in  man  that  opposes  God's  law  ;  a  perfect  obe- 
dience to  him  as  he  speaks  in  Reason,  Conscience,  Affec- 
tion. It  leads  through  active  obedience  to  an  absolute 
trust,  a  perfect  love  ;  to  the  complete  harmony  of  the  finite 
man  with  the  infinite  God,  and  man's  will  coalesces  in  that 
of  him  who  is  All  in  All.  Then  Faith  and  Knowledge  are 
the  same  thing,  Reason  and  Revelation  do  not  conflict, 
Desire  and  Duty  go  hand  in  hand,  and  strew  man's  path 
with  flowers.  Desire  has  become  dutiful,  and  Duty  desira- 
ble. The  divine  spirit  incarnates  itself  in  the  man.  The 
riddle  of  the  world  is  solved.  Perfect  love  casts  out  fear. 
Then  Religion  demands  no  particular  actions,  forms,  or 
modes  of  thought.  The  man's  ploughing  is  holy  as  his 


202  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

prayer  ;  his  daily  bread  as  the  smoke  of  his  sacrifice  ;  his 
home  sacred  as  his  temple  ;  his  work-day  and  his  sabbath 
are  alike  God's  day.  His  priest  is  the  holy  spirit  within 
him  ;  Faith  and  Works,  his  communion  of  both  kinds.  He 
does  not  sacrifice  Reason  to  Religion,  nor  Religion  to  Rea- 
son. Brother  and  Sister,  they  dwell  together  in  Love.  A 
life  harmonious  and  beautiful,  conducted  by  Rectitude,  filled 
full  with  Truth  and  enchanted  by  Love  to  man  and  God, — 
this  is  the  service  he  pays  to  the  Father  of  All.  Belief 
does  not  take  the  place  of  life.  Capricious  austerity  atones 
for  no  duty  left  undone.  He  loves  Religion  as  a  bride,  for 
her  own  sake,  not  for  what  she  brings.  JTe  lies  low  in  the 
hand  of  God.  The  breath  of  the  Father  is  on  him. 

"  If  joy  comes  to  this  man,  he  rejoices  in  its  rosy  light. 
His  Wealth,  his  Wisdom,  his  Power,  is  not  for  himself 
alone,  but  for  all  God's  children.  Nothing  is  his  which  a 
brother  needs  more  than  he.  Like  God  himself,  he  is  kind 
to  the  thankless  and  unmerciful.  Purity  without  and  Piety 
within ;  these  are  his  Heaven,  both  present  and  to  come. 
Is  not  his  flesh  as  holy  as  his  soul, —  his  body  a  temple  of 
God? 

"  If  trouble  comes  on  him,  which  Prudence  could  not 
foresee,  nor  Strength  overcome,  nor  Wisdom  escape  from, 
he  bears  it  with  a  heart  serene  and  full  of  peace.  Over 
every  gloomy  cavern,  and  den  of  despair,  Hope  arches  her 
rainbow  ;  the  ambrosial  light  descends.  Religion  shows 
him,  that,  out  df  desert  rocks,  black  and  savage,  where  the 
Vulture  has  her  home,  where  the  Storm  and  Avalanche  are 
born,  and  whence  they  descend,  to  crush  and  to  kill  ;  out 
of  these  hopeless  cliffs  falls  the  river  of  life,  which  flows 
for  all,  and  makes  glad  the  people  of  God.  When  the 
Storm  and  Avalanche  sweep  from  him  all  that  is  dearest  to 
mortal  hope,  is  he  comfortless  ?  Out  of  the  hard  marble 
of  Life,  the  deposition  of  a  few  joys  and  many  sorrows,  of 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      203 

birth  and  death,  and  smiles  and  grief,  he  hews  him  the 
beautiful  statue  of  religious  Tranquillity.  It  stands  ever 
beside  him,  with  the  smile  of  heavenly  satisfaction  on  its 
lip,  and  its  trusting  finger  pointing  to  the  sky."  —  B.  I.  Ch. 
VII.  §  3,  p.  145. 

The  objections  which  we  have  brought  against  our 
author's  Theistical  doctrine  extend  themselves  to  his 
views  of  Inspiration.  To  examine  them,  however, 
within  the  remaining  limits  of  this  article,  is  impossi- 
ble. To  draw  a  precise  line  of  discrimination  be- 
tween: tke^ Divine  and  the  Human  mind,  and  pro- 
nounce, as  to  the  range  of  our  own  faculties,  what 
may  be  included  without  presumption,  and  what  ex- 
cluded without  enthusiasm,  is  one  of  the  most  diffi- 
cult problems  of  religious  philosophy.  That  Dr. 
Priestley's  denial  of  all  Divine  Influence,  because  no 
miracles  could  be  found  going  on  in  the  mind,  did 
not  settle  the  question,  is  acknowledged  by  a  piety 
that  is  wiser  than  philosophy,  if  not  by  a  philosophy 
that  would  be  wiser  than  piety.  We  feel  no  less  as- 
sured that  Theodore  Parker  has  not  settled  it,  by 
simply  calling  the  ordinary  faculties  of  men  by  the 
name  of  God's  Inspiration,  and  treating  the  Principia 
of  Newton  as  the  work  of  an  inspired  man.  Were 
we  to  attempt  a  solution,  we  should  commence  from 
the  division,  before  stated,  of  all  Agency  into  the  two 
categories  of  the  Human  Will,  and  the  Divine  Will : 
we  should  endeavor  to  determine  the  circle  of  the 
former;  and  whatever  lay  wholly  beyond  it,  though 
still  within  the  limits  of  Consciousness  and  of  Law, 
we  should  refer  to  the  latter.  Not  every  thing,  how- 
ever, that  must  be  ascribed  immediately  to  God,  can 


204  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

be  called  Inspiration.     He  acts   out  of  the   Spirit, 
or  in  Nature,  as  well  as  within  the  Spirit,  or  in  our 
Soul;  and  we   must,  therefore,   again   exclude  the 
whole  of  the  former  sphere,  and  reserve   only  the 
characteristic  faculties  of  Man.      If  it  were  main- 
tained that  there  were  a  plurality  of  these,  a  further 
reduction  might  be  allowed,  till  the  attribute  alone 
remained  which  manifests   itself  in  worship,  —  the 
consciousness  of  moral  distinctions,  and  reverence 
for  moral  excellence  and  beauty.     Whatever  gifts 
are  found  in  this  province  of  the  soul,  which  are  not 
the  produce  of  human  will ;  which  have  been  neither 
learned  nor  earned ;  which,  without  the  touch  of  any 
voluntary  process,  appear  in  mysterious  spontaneity  ; 
are  strictly  the  Inspiration  of  God.     Thoughts  of 
God,  purposes  of  constraining  pity,  sanctities  of  duty, 
rising  above  the  level  horizon  of  the   mind,  silent, 
self-evidencing,   holy,  clearing   themselves,  like   the 
pure  stars,  as  they  ascend,  of  the  low  mists  of  doubt 
and  fear,  —  these  will  ever  be  deemed  true  heaven- 
iights  kindled  from  the  eternal  fires,  whatever  vol- 
umes be  written  to  prove  them  only  gas-lamps,  dis- 
tilled from  the  embers  of  past  pain  and  pleasure  in 
the  transforming  alembic  of  the  brain.     Inspiration 
would  thus  be  to  the  highest  faculty  what  Instinct 
is  to  the  lower ;  a  guidance  coming  of  its  own  ac- 
cord,—  which   we  know   cannot   lead   wrong,   yet 
which  we   cannot   prove  to  be  right.     Happily,  it 
needs  no  proof;   for  there  is  the  same  conscience, 
latent,  though  not  awake,  in  all ;  sunk  no  doubt  in 
various  depths  of  slumber,  but  in  some  ever  ready 
to  apprehend  and  recognize  the  truth  which  higher 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      205 

souls  may  find.  To  such  it  passes,  telling,  as  at 
first,  its  own  divine  tale.  To  others,  with  whom, 
when  they  have  heard  it  in  the  word,  and  seen  it  in 
the  life,  it  does  not  authorize  itself,  it  simply  cannot 
pass  at  all.  "  Surely,"  it  will  be  said,  "  these  are 
just  the  cases  for  a  miracle,  —  and  where  the  Resur- 
rection would  powerfully  tell."  Not  in  the  least ;  — 
"  If  they  hear  not  Moses  and  the  Prophets,  neither 
will  they  be  persuaded  though  one  rose  from  the 
dead." 

We  differ,  then,  from  our  author  in  this :  that  he 
admits,  and  we  exclude,  in  treating  of  Inspiration, 
the  voluntary  products  to  which  the  mind  gives  birth. 
All  learning,  all  Science,  all  work  in  achievement 
of  a  preconceived  end,  we  take  to  be  disentitled  to 
the  name.  In  justification  of  his  question,  "  Is  New- 
ton less  inspired  than  Simon  Peter?"  Theodore 
Parker,  substituting  Moses  for  Simon  Peter,  ob- 
serves :  — 

"  No  candid  man  will  doubt  that,  humanly  speaking,  it 
was  a  more  difficult  thing  to  write  the  Principia  than  the 
Decalogue.  Man  must  have  a  nature  most  sadly  anomalous, 
if,  unassisted,  he  is  able  to  accomplish  all  the  triumphs  of 
modern  science,  and  yet  cannot  discover  the  plainest  and 
most  important  principles  of  Religion  and  Morality  without 
a  miraculous  revelation."  —  B.  II.  Ch.  VIII.  p.  218,  note. 

Now  that  the  amount  of  inspiration  in  an  achieve- 
ment should  be  measured  by  the  difficulty  and  labor 
spent  upon  it,  appears  unreasonable  on  the  princi- 
ples which  we  have  stated.  Let  the  product  be  at 
all  of  a  kind  to  be  yielded  by  the  successive  steps  of 
18 


206  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

a  toilsome  process,  and  it  is  a  thing  of  voluntary  fab- 
rication ;  and,  by  those  who  can  so  conceive  of  it, 
will  never  be  regarded  as  an  inspired  creation.  The 
disposition  to  extend  the  idea  of  inspiration  to  ab- 
stract or  scientific  truth  appears  also  in  an  attempt, 
on  which  we  look  with  strong  repugnance,  to  ren- 
der Christianity  independent  of  the  individuality  of 
Christ.  "  If,"  says  our  author,  "  Christianity  be  true 
at  all,  it  would  be  just  as  true  if  Herod  or  Catiline 
had  taught  it."  (p.  244.)  Yet  the  same  writer  who 
could  set  down  this  painful  paradox  has  said,  with- 
in thirty  pages  of  it,  "  A  foolish  man,  as  such,  can- 
not be  inspired  to  reveal  wisdom  ;  nor  a  wicked  man 
to  reveal  virtue ;  nor  an  impious  man  to  reveal  re- 
ligion ;  unto  him  that  hath,  more  is  given 

The  greater,  purer,  loftier,  more  complete  the  char- 
acter, so  is  the  inspiration."  (p.  221.)  Then  surely 
the  suggested  combination  of  a  "  true  Christianity  " 
with  a  wicked  Christ,  is  no  less  absurd  than  it  is  re- 
volting. If,  indeed,  as  is  usually  assumed,  inspira- 
tion implied  intellectual  infallibility  in  matters  of 
doctrinal  knowledge,  and  could  be  evidenced  by  dis- 
plays of  miraculous  power,  character  might  be  dis- 
pensed with  in  a  divine  messenger ;  and  the  alleged 
grounds  of  supernatural  authority  in  the  religion 
would  be  undisturbed,  though  its  revealer  were  "  a 
Herod  or  a  Catiline."  On  the  principles  of  this  sys- 
tem, the  moral  perfectness  of  Christ  is  not  an  essen- 
tial, but  a  subsidiary,  support  to  Christianity;  —  a 
delightful  confirmation  of  his  mission,  but  not  a  con- 
dition on  which  we  are  at  liberty  to  stake  our  faith 
in  him.  "  Prove  what  you  will  against  his  life," 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      207 

might  it  then  be  said,  "  his  attested  doctrine  re- 
mains." "  Prove  what  you  will  against  his  doc- 
trine," would  we  rather  say,  "  his  divine  life  remains  ; 
and  with  more  '  truth  '  in  it,  than  in  any  proposition 
in  the  Bible  or  out  of  it."  No  revelation  of  duty  is 
possible  except  through  the  Conscience;  and  Con- 
science cannot  be  effectually  reached  but  by  the 
presence  of  a  holier  life  and  a  higher  spirit.  From 
the  spectacle  of  devoted  excellence  and  saintly  beauty 
of  mind,  as  from  nothing  else,  flashes  down  upon  us 
the  awful  and  redeemig  sense  of  new  obligation  :  the 
thing  seen  in  the  concrete  becomes  conviction  in  the 
abstract :  and  a  religion  lived  passes  into  a  religion 
believed.  And  so  we  regard  it  as  a  rule  in  matters 
of  devout  faith,  that  it  is  reverence  for  persons  which 
gives  perception  of  truth  in  ideas. 

Had  our  author  shared  our  full  persuasion  that 
this  rule  is  true,  he  would  not  have  diffused  his  "  in- 
spiration "  so  widely  over  the  human  race.  Filled 
with  the  idea,  that  religious  and  moral  guidance  are 
the  most  indispensable  of  God's  gifts,  he  loosely  in- 
fers their  universality.  He  is  resolved  to  snatch  such 
precious  blessings  from  all  dependence  on  special 
causes.  He  esteems  the  Reason,  Conscience,  and 
religious  Sentiment,  with  which  God  has  endowed 
us,  fully  adequate  to  their  manifest  end ;  and  has 
the  firmest  confidence  that  every  man,  faithful  to 
their  suggestions,  may  know  what  is  true  of  God, 
love  what  is  good  in  life,  and  do  what  is  right  in 
duty.  He  not  only  scorns  the  claim  of  any  possible 
outward  authority  over  these  powers,  but  makes 
light  of  any  outward  helps  to  them  ;  and  though  de- 


208  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

voutly  thankful  for  the  disclosure  in  Christ  of  "  the 
highest  possibility  of  human  nature,"  is  anxious  to 
disclaim  the  kind  of  reliance  on  him  which  is  usually 
welcome  to  the  disciple's  heart.  We  confess  that 
this  sometimes  gives  to  our  author's  position  an  air 
of  Stoical  isolation,  on  which  we  look,  at  best,  with 
more  admiration  than  sympathy.  Moreover,  the 
doctrine  of  which  it  is  the  result  is,  we  are  persuad- 
ed, a  mistake.  Outward  sources  of  religion  are  just 
as  needful  to  us  as  inward  faculties  ;  and  without 
the  beings  given  to  our  experience,  an  utter  barren- 
ness would  attach  to  the  constitution  given  to  our 
souls.  Reason  and  Conscience  are  not,  as  some- 
times called,  "  the  light"  but  only  the  eye,  of  faith  ; 
which  first  has  vision,  when  the  lustre  of  pure  and 
great  natures  is  shed  on  it  through  the  atmosphere 
of  life.  Not  only  are  some  external  conditions  indis- 
pensable to  us  ;  but  these  human  experiences,  and  no 
other ;  this  commerce  of  souls ;  this  wondering  look, 
to  see  how  greatness  and  wisdom  manage  the  prob- 
lem of  life.  For  what  is  called  "  Natural  Theology," 
which  a  man  is  supposed  to  get  by  studying  all 
sorts  of  things  inferior  to  himself,  and  making  a 
lonely  scientific  expedition  through  earth  and  air  and 
water,  we  have  but  a  small  esteem.  Well  as  a  sup- 
plement, it  is  naught  as  the  substance,  of  religion. 
Faith  comes,  we  are  persuaded,  through  the  moral 
elements  of  our  nature,  by  the  presence  of  spiritual 
causes  above  us,  not  by  the  observation  of  material 
effects  beneath  us.  Hence  all  great  religions  have 
been  historical :  the  thorough  interweaving  of  all  the 
roots  of  Christianity  with  the  history  of  the  world 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      209 

on  which  it  has  sprung,  is  at  once  a  source  of  its 
power  and  an  assurance  of  its  divineness ;  and  the 
attempt  to  give  it  an  abstract  character,  to  loosen  its 
connection  with  the  individuality  of  Christ,  and  dis- 
engage from  it  a  metaphysical  indestructibility  called 
"  Absolute  Religion,"  is  a  mistake,  in  our  opinion, 
not  only  of  its  particular  genius,  but  of  the  universal 
springs  of  human  Faith. 

In  fact,  we  can  find  no  rest  in  any  view  of  Revela- 
tion short  of  that  which  pervades  the  fourth  Gospel, 
and  which  is  everywhere  implicated  in  the  folds  of 
the  Logos-doctrine  ;  that  it  is  an  appearance,  to  beings 
who  have  something  of  a  divine  spirit  within  them,  of 
a  yet  diviner  without  them,  leading  them  to  the  Di- 
vinest  of  all,  that  embraces  them  both.  No  doubt,  this 
conception,  while  it  adheres  to  the  necessity  of  an 
historical  mediator,  generalizes  the  idea  of  Inspira- 
tion ;  renders  it  impossible  to  affirm,  that  God  has 
never  touched  any  human  heart  out  of  the  circle  of 
the  Hebrew  nation  ;  and  leaves  to  Jesus  simply  a 
transcendent  preeminence,  —  the  very  preeminence 
claimed  for  him,  that  he  "  had  the  Spirit  without 
measure"  that  we  can  gauge.  That  this  was  the 
doctrine  of  the  Christian  Fathers,  who  did  not  deny 
a  portion  of  the  divine  Logos  to  the  wise  and  good 
among  the  Heathens,  is  known  to  every  reader  of 
the  ancient  Apologies,*  and  ought  to  protect  it  in  the 

*  See  Justin  Mart.  Apol.  II.  cap.  13.  OVK  dXXdrpid  tarn.  TO.  H\d- 
Totvos  oiftdypMTO.  TOV  Xpiorov,  dXX'  OVK  eon  Trdvrrj  o/xota,  Sxnrfp 
ov8e  TO.  TU>V  aXXwi',  STOHKOOI/  re,  KOI  iroiTjT&v,  KOI  o~vyypa(pf<0v  •  exa- 
aros  yap  TIS  dirb  fj^povs  TOV  o-TrepfuiTiKov  dfiov  \6yov  TO 
opooj/  Ka\£>s  e(pd(y£aro. 

18* 


210  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

eyes  of  those  who  want  an  authority  for  their  truth 
more  than  truth  for  their  authority.  And  is  it  not 
childish  to  insist  on  putting  out  all  other  lights,  in 
order  to  make  sure  that  the  Christ  may  shine  ?  Is 
his  glory  so  doubtful  and  obscure,  that  it  is  discern- 
ible only  in  the  dark,  and  that  the  faint  fires  of  God, 
eternal  in  the  human  soul,  must  be  damped  down, 
ere  we  can  see  the  bright  and  morning  star  ?  If  the 
elevation  of  Jesus  is  real,  it  is  not  changed  by  filling 
up  the  approaches  to  him  with  ranks  of  glorious 
minds  and  groups  of  holy  lives,  fitted,  by  the  glow 
of  the  same  spirit  and  fraternity  of  the  same  class, 
to  own  him  as  the  Perfecter  of  their  faith,  and  look 
up  to  him  in  his  Kingly  height  as  the  crown  of  their 
pyramid  of  souls.  That  the  "  authority  "  of  Christ 
over  men  should  require  his  cold  isolation  from  men, 
so  that,  in  his  particular  characteristics  as  our  guide, 
he  should  be  extrinsic  to  our  race,  is  perfectly  incon- 
ceivable to  us.  Why,  God  himself  has  no  "  author- 
ity "  over  us,  but  in  virtue  of  attributes  which  he  has 
made  common  to  our  nature  with  his  own,  and  in 
which  we  are  separated  from  him  in  degree  and  not 
in  kind.  And  where,  after  all,  is  the  ultimate  "  au- 
thority "  of  our  religion  to  be  found  ?  Who  will 
show  us  the  real  seat  of  the  "  primitive  Christianity" 
of  which  all  disciples  are  in  quest  ?  Shall  we  take 
the  first  four  centuries,  and  interpret  the  concurrent 
tones  of  their  voices  into  the  certain  oracle  of  God  ? 
Not  so,  you  say  ;  for  the  writers  of  that  period  were 
full  of  the  errors  prevailing  around  them :  and  they 
themselves  refer  us  to  an  anterior  generation,  as  im- 
parting legitimacy  to  the  doctrines  which  they  teach. 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.      211 

Shall  we  go,  then,  to  that  earlier  generation,  and 
abide  by  the  words  of  the  Apostolic  age  ?  Scarcely 
this  either,  you  will  say ;  for  the  marks  are  too  plain 
that  there  is  no  unerring  certainty  here  :  the  Apostles 
themselves  were  not  without  their  differences ;  and 
even  their  unanimity  could  mistake,  for  they  con- 
fessedly taught  the  near  approach  of  the  end  of  the 
world.  They,  too,  still  refer  us  upward,  and  take 
every  thing  from  Christ.  To  Christ,  then,  let  us  go. 
Wherein  resides  the  "  authority  "  in  him  which  we 
are  to  accept  as  "  final  "  ?  Shall  we  say,  —  in  his 
reported  words  wherever  found  ;  —  his  statements 
are  conclusive,  and  exempt  from  doubt  ?  Impossi- 
ble !  Who  can  affirm  that  he  had,  and  that  he  ut- 
tered, no  ideas  imbibed  from  his  age,  and  obsolete 
when  that  age  was  gone  ;  that  he  grew  up  to  man- 
hood in  the  Galilean  province  without  a  sentiment, 
an  expectation,  native  to  place  and  time  ;  or  that  he 
disrobed  himself  of  his  whole  natural  mind  from  the 
instant  of  his  baptism ;  that  he  did  not  discern  evil 
spirits  in  the  poor  patients  that  came  to  him,  and  so 
misinterpret  his  own  miracles;  that  he  raised  no 
hopes  in  others  of  sitting  on  twelve  thrones,  judging 
the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel ;  of  drinking  with  him  of 
the  fruit  of  the  vine  at  his  table  in  his  kingdom  ;  and 
of  his  own  return  to  fulfil  all  these  things  "  within 
that  generation  "  ?  Will  any  one  plainly  say,  with 
these  things  before  him,  that  Jesus  was  infallible,  and 
that  in  his  spoken  language  we  have  a  standard  of 
doctrinal  truth  ?  And  if  error  was  possible,  who  will 
give  us  an  external  test  by  which  we  may  know  the 
region  of  its  absence  and  of  its  presence  ?  for,  with- 


212  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

out  this,  to  talk  of  his  words  being  "  a  rule  of  faith  " 
is  a  delusion  or  a  pretence.  But  why  this  Heathen- 
ish craving  for  an  "  oracle,"  turning  the  Galilean  hills 
into  a  Delphi,  Jesus  into  a  Pythoness,  and  degrading 
the  Gospels  into  Sibylline  books  ?  Did  Christ  ask 
for  this  blind,  implicit  trust  ?  Did  he  wish  his  dis- 
ciples to  believe  his  word,  because  it  was  true,  —  or 
the  truth,  because  it  was  his  word  ?  Nay,  did  not  he 
also  refer  us  to  something  higher,  and  hint  at  an  au- 
thority needful  to  authorize  his  own  ?  Thither,  then, 
we  must  retreat,  if  indeed  we  would  find  "  Primitive 
Christianity."  Behind  all  the  communicated  beliefs 
of  Jesus  lie  his  felt  beliefs,  with  the  question,  "  What 
made  them  his  ?  "  Whence  his  holy  trust  in  them  ? 
for  in  his  soul,  also,  they  had  a  justifying  origin. 
He  thought  them,  he  loved  them,  he  worshipped  in 
them,  he  struggled  under  them,  before  he  published 
them :  by  what  mark  did  he  know  them  to  be  di- 
vine ?  Does  any  one  really  suppose  that  he  would 
refuse  to  believe  them,  unless  his  senses  could  have 
a  physical  demonstration,  unless  the  Infinite  Spirit 
would  talk  audibly  with  him  in  the  vernacular 
tongue,  and  give  him  His  word  for  them,  and  show 
off  some  proof-miracles  to  satisfy  his  doubts  ?  And 
if  it  were  found  out  that  there  was  no  breach  of  the 
Eternal  Silence,  no  phantasms  floating  between  the 
uplifted  eye  of  the  Nazarene  and  the  quiet  stars, 
would  you  say  that  it  was  all  over  with  our  faith, 
and  its  divine  original  clean  gone  ?  Surely  not.  It 
will  not  be  questioned  that  the  Inspiration  of  Jesus 
was  within  the  soul :  by  the  powers  that  dwelt  there, 
he  knew  the  thoughts  to  be  divine  and  holy  as  they 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OJF  RELIGION.      213 

dropped  on  his  meditations :  and  the  authorizing 
point  of  all  his  treasures  of  heavenly  truth  and  grace 
dwelt  in  his  Reason,  Conscience,  and  Faith.  Here, 
then,  is  the  fountain  of  all,  the  primitive  seat  of  in- 
spiration, the  true  religion  of  Christ,  —  that  which 
he  felt  and  followed,  not  that  which  he  spake  and  led. 
And  those  are  the  most  genuine  disciples,  who  stand 
with  him  at  the  same  spring ;  who  are  ready  for  the 
same  trust ;  and  can  disengage  themselves  from  tra- 
dition, pretence,  and  fear,  at  the  bidding  of  the  same 
source  of  Inspiration. 

The  critical  opinions  of  Theodore  Parker  on  the 
origin  and  contents  of  the  Hebrew  and  Christian 
records,  we  do  not  propose  to  discuss.  Indeed,  they 
are  so  cursorily  presented  in  his  book,  that  to  ex- 
amine the  grounds  of  them  would  be  to  travel  far 
beyond  the  materials  before  us.  His  judgment  on 
the  historical  evidence  for  the  miracles  has  been  the 
subject  of  comment  in  a  former  article.  In  that 
judgment  we  do  not  concur.  But  if  there  is  any 
one  who,  for  that  judgment,  chooses  to  denounce 
him  as  "  no  Christian  "  ;  who  conceives  that  a  liter- 
ary verdict,  referring  the  Gospels  to  the  second  cen- 
tury instead  of  the  first,  outlaws  a  man  from  "the 
kingdom  of  God";  who  can^read  this  book,  and 
suppose  in  his  heart  that  here  is  a  man  whom  Jesus 
would  have  driven  from  the  company  of  disciples ; 
we  can  only  wish  that  the  accuser's  title  to  the  name 
were  as  obvious  as  the  accused's.  Alas  for  this  poor 
wrangling !  To  hear  the  boastful  anger  of  our  stout 
believers,  one  would  suppose  that  to  take  up  our 
faith  on  too  easy  terms,  and  to  be  drawn  into  dis- 


214  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

cipleship  less  by  logic  than  by  love,  were  the  very 
Sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost !  Jesus  thought  it  might 
not  be  too  much  to  expect  of  his  enemies,  that,  being 
eyewitnesses,  they  might  "  believe  his  works  "  ;  but 
of  his  friends  it  was  the  mark,  that  they  would  "  be- 
lieve him"  But  now-a-days,  who  are  our  "  patient 
Christians,"  ever  busy  with  indictments  against  all 
counterfeits  ?  Why,  men  who  think  it  supremely 
ridiculous  to  accept  any  thing  or  being  as  divine, 
unless  visible  certificates  of  character  be  written  on 
earth,  air,  and  water,  and  Heaven  will  pawn  the 
laws  of  nature  as  personal  securities. 

We  part  with  Theodore  Parker  in  hope  to  meet 
again.  He  has,  we  are  persuaded,  a  task,  severe 
perhaps,  but  assuredly  noble,  to  achieve  in  this  world. 
The  work  we  have  reviewed  is  the  confession,  at  the 
threshold  of  a  high  career,  of  a  great  Reforming  soul, 
that  has  thus  cleared  itself  of  hinderance,  and  girded 
up  itself  for  a  faithful  future.  The  slowness  of  suc- 
cess awaiting  those  who  stand  apart  from  the  multi- 
tude will  not  dismay  him.  He  knows  the  ways  of 
Providence  too  well :  — 

"  Institutions  arise  as  they  are  needed,  and  fall  when  their 
work  is  done.  Of  these  things  nothing  is  fixed.  Corporeal 
despotism  is  getting  ended  ;  will  the  spiritual  tyranny  last 
for  ever  ?  A  will  above  our  puny  strength  marshals  the 
race  of  men,  using  our  freedom,  virtue,  folly,  as  instru- 
ments to  one  vast  end,  —  the  harmonious  development  of 
man.  We  see  the  art  of  God  in  the  web  of  the  spider,  and 
the  cell  of  a  bee,  but  have  not  skill  to  discern  it  in  the 
march  of  man.  We  repine  at  the  slowness  of  the  future 
in  coming,  or  the  swiftness  of  the  past  in  fleeing  away  ; 


THEODORE  PARKER'S  DISCOURSE  OF  RELIGION.     215 

we  sigh  for  the  fabled  '  Millennium  '  to  advance,  or  pray 
Time  to  restore  us  the  Age  of  Gold.  It  avails  nothing.  We 
cannot  hurry  God,  nor  retard  him.  Old  schools  and  new 
schools  seem  as  men  that  stand  on  the  shore  of  some  Atlan- 
tic bay,  and  shout,  to  frighten  back  the  tide,  or  urge  it  on. 
What  boots  their  cry  ?  Gently  the  sea  swells  under  the 
moon,  and,  in  the  hour  of  God's  appointment,  the  tranquil 
tide  rolls  in,  to  inlet  and  river,  to  lave  the  rocks,  to  bear  on 
its  bosom  the  ship  of  the  merchant,  the  weeds  of  the  sea. 
We  complain,  as  our  fathers  ;  let  us  rather  rejoice,  for  ques- 
tions less  weighty  than  these  have  in  other  ages  been  settled 
only  with  the  point  of  the  sword  and  the  thunder  of  cannon. 
"If  the  opinions  advanced  in  this  discourse  be  correct, 
then  Religion  is  above  all  institutions,  and  can  never  fail : 
they  shall  perish,  but  Religion  endure  ;  they  shall  wax  old 
as  a  garment ;  they  shall  be  changed,  and  the  places  that 
knew  them  shall  know  them  no  more  for  ever  ;  but  Re- 
ligion is  ever  the  same,  and  its  years  shall  have  no  end." 
—  p.  484. 


PHASES   OF   FAITH.* 

[From  the  Prospective  Review  for  August,  1850.] 

THIS  book  is  a  necessary  Appendix  to  the  author's 
former  Treatise  on  the  Soul.  In  that  work  he  pre- 
sented a  scheme  of  positive  Religion,  founded  essen- 
tially on  psychological  experience,  and  asking  for  no 
data  beyond  the  mind's  own  consciousness  in  the 
exercise  of  its  highest  affections.  Its  object  and 
method  were  constructive :  and  in  evolving  an  ade- 
quate faith  from  the  inner  life  of  human  spirit,  he 
could  spare  only  an  incidental  notice  for  doctrines 
and  modes  of  procedure  at  variance  with  his  own. 
He  there  unfolded  the  truths  which  respect  our  spir- 
itual relations  according  to  the  order  in  which,  as 
he  conceives,  they  ought  to  be  thought  out.  This, 
however,  is  not  the  order  in  which  he  himself  has 
actually  reached  them ;  still  less  does  it  agree  with 
the  ordinary  path  of  approach  to  them.  All  Chris- 
tians conceive  themselves  indebted  to  an  historical 
revelation,  concurrently  with  the  intimations  of  their 


*  Phases  of  Faith:  or  Passages  from  the  History  of  my  Creed. 
By  Francis  William  Newman,  formerly  Fellow  of  Baliol  College, 
Oxford.  London:  Chapman.  1850. 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  217 

own  nature,  for  their  most  inspiring  convictions :  and 
with  Mr.  Newman  himself,  they  are  not  a  fresh  ac- 
quisition won  by  his  present  mode  of  thought,  but 
a  residue  left  uncancelled  by  the  mental  changes 
through  which  he  has  passed,  and  provided  by  an 
after-thought  with  their  new  title  to  continued  pos- 
session. The  present  publication  describes  the  pro- 
cesses by  which  the  author,  from  a  commencement 
in  Calvinism,  reached  at  length  the  religion  of  "  The- 
Soul."  It  contains  his  apology  for  dispensing  en- 
tirely with  all  external  aids,  —  miracle  or  prophecy v 
Bible  or  Church,  —  in  the  establishment  of  a  Faith ; 
and  for  limiting  himself  to  sources  purely  subjective. 
It  defends  his  isolated  position  by  tracing  the  invol- 
untary encroachments  of  scepticism,  as  reflection 
and  knowledge  increased  and  imparted  a  freer  action 
to  his  mind ;  till  the  ever-narrowing  circumference  of 
his  ecclesiastical  and  Scriptural  belief  drove  him  at 
last  upon  his  own  centre,  and  left  him  as  a  point 
alone  amid  the  infinitude  of  God.  As  the  course  of 
change  was  exceedingly  gradual,  and  every  stage  of 
it  is  successively  vindicated,  the  book  is  necessarily 
a  kind  of  running  criticism  on  almost  every  Chris- 
tian creed,  and  the  whole  circle  of  Christian  eviden- 
ces ;  and  elicits  in  each  case  a  negative  result.  By 
this  aggressive  process  nothing  is  brought  out  of 
which  Mr.  Newman's  previous  book  had  not  given 
ample  notice.  Yet  to  most  of  his  readers  this  whol- 
ly destructive  character  will  assuredly  be  painful ; 
and  many  who,  with  ourselves,  have  been  penetrat- 
ed with  affectionate  admiration  for  his  transparent 
truthfulness  and  elevation  of  soul,  will  feel  it  a  sor- 
19 


218  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

row  to  lose  the  sympathy  of  such  a  mind  in  some 
of  their  most  cherished  persuasions.  The  earlier 
treatise  so  abounded  in  passages  of  solemn  and  ten- 
der devotion,  that  the  reader  was  borne  on  the 
wing  over  the  chasms  in  its  faith,  and  no  more  felt 
its  doubts  than  he  would  pause  upon  a  heresy  let 
fall  in  prayer.  But  the  present  work  cannot,  from 
its  very  nature,  bespeak  the  affections  by  any  such 
preengagement.  It  is  rigorously  logical :  and  though 
the  author's  fearlessness  is  manifestly  the  simple  in- 
spiration of  a  pure  and  trustful  heart,  yet  the  relent- 
less way  in  which  he  follows  out  a  single  line  of 
thought,  and  hurries  you  along  it  as  if  it  were  the 
whole  surface  of  the  truth,  provokes  something  of 
natural  resistance.  You  feel  yourself  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  mind  wholly  incapable  of  the  least  moral 
unfairness  or  ingenious  self-deception,  and  devoted 
with  absolute  singleness  to  the  quest  of  the  true  and 
the  good:  but,  at  the  same  time,  too  much  distin- 
guished by  intellectual  impetuosity,  and  the  intense 
flow  of  sympathies  in  one  particular  channel,  to  at- 
tain a  judicial  largeness  of  view.  Hence  the  work 
produces  all  its  effect  at  once :  and  while  many  will 
utter  warnings  against  reading  it  at  all,  our  counsel 
would  be  to  read  it  twice.  For  ourselves  at  least  we 
must  confess  that,  where  our  admiration  and  even 
reverence  are  so  strongly  enlisted,  we  are  apt  to  be 
carried  away  at  first  beyond  the  bounds  of  our  per- 
manent convictions  ;  to  take  over-precautions  against 
our  own  prejudgments ;  and  yield  ourselves  too  free- 
ly to  the  hand  of  a  guidance  felt  to  be  generous  and 
noble :  and  it  requires  time  and  calm  review  to  re- 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  219 

cover  from  the  mingled  self-distrust  and  sympathy 
with  which  such  companionship  as  our  author's  in- 
spires us. 

To  the  earlier  part  of  this  book  singular  freshness 
is  given  by  its  autobiographical  form,  and  the  perfect 
simplicity  with  which  it  lays  open  every  state  of  mind 
bearing  on  the  subsequent  developments  of  opin- 
ion. The  sketch  so  slightly  given  of  the  thought- 
ful and  serious  schoolboy,  derided  by  hearts  yet  free 
from  the  claim  of  God,  and  comforted  by  the  kindly 
clergyman  who  could  read  the  spirit  at  work  with- 
in ;  of  the  youth  at  Confirmation,  chilled  by  the  dry 
questions  of  the  Examiner,  and  repelled  by  the 
sleeves  and  formality  of  the  Bishop  ;  of  the  Fresh- 
man at  Oxford,  signing  the .. Articles  in  all  the  joy  of 
passionate  belief,  and  then  iinding  that  among  com- 
panions they  were  objects  of  general  indifference ; 
will  wake  in  many  a  heart  affecting  memories  of 
life's  most  fervid  and  fruitful  hours.  How  far  his  re- 
ligious life  might  have  found  a  less  troubled  devel- 
opment, had  it  commenced  under  a  simpler  scheme 
of  doctrine,  we  will  not  pretend  to  decide.  But  it  is 
evident  that  so  active  an  intellect,  inclosed  within 
the  complicated  economy  of  Calvinism,  gave  his 
faith  no  chance  of  long  repose  :  and  during  his  un- 
dergraduate course  many  questions  had  arisen,  on 
the  imputation  of  Christ's  righteousness,  on  the  ob- 
ligation of  the  Sabbath,  on  the  ground  of  difference 
between  the  Mosaic  sacrifices  and  the  Christian 
Atonement,  on  the  meaning  of  the  words  "  One  " 
and  "  Three  "  in  the  Athanasian  Creed,  all  of  which 
he  had  answered  in  an  unorthodox  sense.  But, 


220  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

above  all,  he  had  given  up  the  doctrine  of  Infant 
Baptism,  and  on  this  account  was  almost  deterred 
from  the  re-signature  essential  to  his  Bachelor's  de- 
gree. Though  he  overcame  his  scruples  thus  far, 
they  exercised  a  most  important  influence  on  the 
subsequent  course  of  his  life ;  deterring  him  from 
entering  the  Church;  determining  (we  imagine) 
the  class  of  Christians  (the  Baptists)  whose  commun- 
ion he  was  afterwards  to  join  ;  and  bringing  out  for 
the  first  time  that  strong  contrast  between  the  broth- 
ers Newman,  which  has  become  so  strikihg  in  its  re- 
sults. We  have  often  heard  the  remark,  that  the 
radical  characteristics  of  these  two  men  are  essen- 
tially the  same ;  that  the  great  problem  of  faith  pre- 
sented itself  under  like  conditions  to  both  ;  that  their 
solutions,  opposite  as  thify  seem,  exhaust  the  logical 
alternative  of  the  case,  and  are  but  the  positive  and 
negative  roots  of  one  equation  ;  and  that,  but  for  ac- 
cidental causes,  or  the  overbalance  of  a  casual  feel- 
ing, their  paths  might  never  have  diverged.  Upon  the 
evidence  of  their  writings,  this  estimate  has  always 
appeared  to  us  curiously  false  :  and  a  passage  in  the 
present  volume,  which  exhibits  the  divergence  at  its 
commencement,  corrects  the  opinion  in  a  manner 
deeply  instructive.  Speaking  of  his  crisis  of  diffi- 
culty respecting  Baptism,  our  author  says :  — 

"  One  person  there  was  at  Oxford  who  might  have 
seemed  my  natural  adviser  :  his  name,  character,  and  relig- 
ious peculiarities  have  been  so  made  public  property,  that  I 
need  not  shrink  to  name  him  :  —  I  mean  my  elder  brother, 
the  Rev.  John  Henry  Newman.  As  a  warm-hearted  and 
generous  brother,  who  exercised  towards  me  paternal  cares, 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  221 

I  esteemed  him  and  felt  a  deep  gratitude ;  as  a  man  of  va- 
rious culture  and  peculiar  genius,  I  admired  and  was  proud 
of  him  ;  but  my  doctrinal  religion  impeded  my  loving  him 
as  much  as  he  deserved,  and  even  justified  my  feeling  some 
distrust  of  him.  He  never  showed  any  strong  attraction 
towards  those  whom  I  regarded  as  spiritual  persons :  on  the 
contrary,  I  thought  him  stiff  and  cold  towards  them.  More- 
over, soon  after  his  ordination,  he  had  startled  and  dis- 
tressed me  by  adopting  the  doctrine  of  Baptismal  Regener- 
ation ;  and,  in  rapid  succession,  worked  out  views  which  I 
regarded  as  full-blown  '  Popery.'  I  speak  of  the  years 
1823  -  6  :  it  is  strange  to  think  that  twenty  years  more  had 
to  pass  before  he  learnt  the  place  to  which  his  doctrines  be- 
longed. 

"  In  the  earliest  period  of  my  Oxford  residence,  I  fell  in- 
to uneasy  collision  with  him  concerning  Episcopal  powers. 
I  had  on  one  occasion  dropt  something  disrespectful  against 
Bishops  or  a  Bishop,  something  which,  if  it  had  been  said 
about  a  Clergyman,  would  have  passed  unnoticed  ;  but  my 
brother  checked  and  reproved  me,  —  as  I  thought  very  un- 
instructively,  —  for  '  wanting  reverence  towards  Bishops.' 
I  knew  not  then,  and  I  know  not  now,  why  Bishops,  as  such, 
should  be  more  reverenced  than  common  clergymen  ;  or 

Clergymen,  as  such,  more  than  common  men I 

was  willing  to  honor  a  Lord  Bishop  as  a  Peer  of  Parliament, 
but  his  office  was  to  me  no  guaranty  of  spiritual  eminence. 
To  find  my  brother  thus  stop  my  mouth,  was  a  puzzle  ;  and 
impeded  all  free  speech  towards  him."  —  p.  10. 

Whence  this  incapacity  for  sympathy  between 
two  minds,  both  noble,  both  affectionate,  trained  in 
the  same  home,  enriched  by  the  same  culture,  in- 
tent upon  the  same  ends  ?  With  reasoning  powers 
equally  acute,  and  equally  uncorrupted  by  passion  or 
19* 


222  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

by  self,  they  could  not  have  found  concurrence  im- 
possible, had  it  been  within  the  resources  of  logic  or 
of  faithfulness.  The  difference,  we  are  persuaded, 
ascends  behind  these,  and  lies  in  the  original  data 
from  which  each  inquirer  proceeded  as  his  primary 
conditions  of  belief:  and  we  conceive  that  difference 
to  be  one  which  radically  separates  Catholic  from 
Evangelical  Churches,  rendering  their  approxima- 
tion intrinsically  impossible,  and  limiting  each  to  the 
range  of  one  class  of  minds.  A  passing  remark  of 
our  author's  unconsciously  opens  to  us  the  seat  of 
this  difference. 

"  For  any  one  to  avow  that  Regeneration  took  place  in 
Baptism,  seemed  to  me  little  short  of  a  confession  that  he  had 
never  himself  experienced  what  Regeneration  is."  —  p.  15. 

The  new  birth,  —  that  is  to  say,  —  is  something 
which  must  be  felt,  and  felt  under  riper  conditions 
than  those  of  the  infant  Soul ;  felt  as  a  lifted  weight 
of  sin,  a  broken  bondage  of  self,  a  free  surrender  to 
the  will  of  a  forgiving  God.  This  reconciliation  of 
heart,  this  joyful  spring  of  free  affection  into  the  in- 
finite arms,  is  a  fact  in  the  history  of  thousands : 
and  to  him  who  knows  it,  it  is  vain  to  speak  of  any 
other  Regeneration.  To  tell  him  that  the  sprinkled 
babe,  in  whom  he  sees  nothing  supervene,  and  who 
is  evidently  conscious  of  nothing  but  the  water- 
drops,  undergoes  the  stupendous  change  of  a  Divine 
adoption,  seems  to  him  to  degrade  the  Economy 
of  Heaven  to  a  level  with  the  arts  of  conjuring. 
When  God  breaks  into  the  human  soul,  shall  it  be 
without  a  trace  ?  Must  he  not  shake  it  to  its  cen- 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  223 

tre  ?  and  as  he  obliterates  its  guilt,  shall  there  be  no 
sense  of  clearness,  and  no  tears  of  joy  to  make  a 
fruitful  place  for  every  seed  of  holiness  ?  Thus  the 
Evangelical  insists  on  consciousness  as  an  indispen- 
sable evidence  of  a  divine  change ;  and  can  accept 
nothing  as  spiritual  except  what  declares  itself  with- 
in the  human  spirit,  and  exalts  its  highest  action : 
and  further,  the  kind  of  experience  for  which  he 
looks  is  not  possible  to  every  mind,  but  is  incident 
especially  to  passionate  and  impulsive  souls.  Not 
all  good  men,  however,  are  formed  in  this  mould : 
many  who  devoutly  seek  a  union  with  God,  and 
who  believe  a  new  birth  to  be  the  prerequisite  condi- 
tion, are  never  vividly  conscious  of  any  Divine  irrup- 
tion for  the  emancipation  of  their  nature :  and  for 
the  erasure  of  guilt  and  the  visitation  of  grace  they 
must  look  back  beyond  the  period  of  memory  to  the 
cradle  of  their  life,  and  its  earliest  consecration : 
when  they  were  born  of  water,  they  were  doubtless 
born  of  the  spirit  too.  True  the  saving  touch  was 
reported  to  them  by  no  feeling :  but  are  there  not  se- 
cret workings  of  God?  and  shall  we  deny  Him 
because  his  approach  is  gentle,  and  his  spirit,  instead 
of  tearing  us  in  storm,  spreads  through  us  insensibly 
like  a  purifying  atmosphere?  What  hinders  him 
from  redeeming  and  improving  a  nature  that  knows 
not  its  benefactor  except  by  faith?  If  his  presence 
lurks  throughout  unconscious  Nature,  and  is  the  un- 
felt  source  of  all  the  beauty,  life,  and  order  there,  by 
what  right  can  we  affirm  that  his  Spirit  cannot 
evade  our  consciousness  ?  According  to  this  view, 
which  dispenses  with  the  evidence  of  personal  expe- 


224  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

Hence,  the  Soul,  in  the  reception  of  grace,  is  regard- 
ed externally,  as  a  natural  object  submitted  to  the 
disinfecting  influence  of  God:  and  the  Divine  Spirit 
is  treated  as  a  kind  of  physical  power  of  transcend- 
ent efficacy,  —  or  at  least  as  an  agency  permeating 
physical  natures,  and  so  refining  them  as  to  trans- 
figure them  into  spiritual  life.  No  exact  boundary  is 
here  drawn  between  the  realm  of  sense  and  that  of 
spirit,  —  between  the  material  energy  and  the  moral 
interposition  of  God;  —  they  melt  into  one  another 
under  the  mediation  of  a  kind  of  spiritual  chemistry, 
descending  into  organic  force  on  the  one  hand,  and 
rising  into  the  inspiration  of  holiness  on  the  other. 
This  appears  to  us  to  be  the  conception  which  un- 
derlies the  peculiarities  of  Catholicism.  Hence  the 
invariable  presence  of  some  physical  element  in  all 
that  it  looks  upon  as  venerable.  Its  rites  are  a  ma- 
nipular  invocation  of  God.  Its  miracles  are  exam- 
ples of  incarnate  divineness  in  old  clothes  and  wink- 
ing pictures.  Its  ascetic  discipline  is  founded  on  the 
notion  of  a  gradual  consumption  of  the  grosser  body 
by  the  encroaching  fire  of  the  spirit;  till  in  the  estati- 
ca  the  frame  itself  becomes  ethereal,  and  the  light 
shines  through.  Nothing  can  be  more  offensive  than 
all  this  to  the  Evangelical  conception;  which  plants 
the  natural  and  the  spiritual  in  irreconcilable  con- 
tradiction, denies  to  them  all  approach  or  contact, 
and  allows  each  to  exist  only  by  the  extinction  of 
the  other.  They  belong  virtually  to  opposite  influ- 
ences,—  of  Satan  and  of  God.  They  follow  oppo- 
site methods,  —  of  necessary  law  and  of  free  grace. 
They  are  cognizable  by  opposite  faculties, — of  sense 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  225 

and  understanding  on  the  one  hand ;  of  the  soul  up- 
on the  other.  This  unmediated  dualism  follows  the 
Evangelical  into  his  theory  as  to  the  state  of  each 
individual  soul  before  God.  The  Catholic  does  not 
deny  all  divine  light  to  the  natural  conscience  or  all 
power  to  the  natural  will  of  unconverted  men :  he 
maintains  that  these  also  are  already  under  a  law  of 
obligation,  may  do  what  is  well  pleasing  before  God, 
and  by  superior  faithfulness  qualify  themselves  to 
become  subjects  of  grace;  so  that  the  Gospel  shall 
come  upon  them  as  a  divine  supplement  to  the  sad 
and  feeble  moral  life  of  nature.  To  the  Evangelical, 
on  the  contrary,  the  soul  that  is  not  saved  is  lost ; 
the  corruption  before  regeneration,  and  the  sanctifica- 
tion  after  it,  are  alike  complete  and  without  degree ; 
and  the  best  works  of  the  unconverted,  far  from  hav- 
ing any  tendency  to  bring  them  to  Christ,  are  of  the 
nature  of  sin.  So,  again,  the  contrast  turns  up  in  the 
opposite  views  taken  of  the  divine  economy  in  hu- 
man affairs.  The  Evangelical  detaches  the  elect  in 
his  imagination  from  the  remaining  mass  of  men, 
sequesters  them  as  a  holy  people,  who  must  not  mix 
themselves  with  the  affairs  of  Belial.  He  withdraws 
the  Church  from  the  world,  and  watches  lest  any 
bridge  of  transition  should  smooth  the  way  for  a 
mingling  of  their  feelings  and  pursuits.  The  more 
spiritual  he  is,  the  more  will  he  abstain  from  politi- 
cal action,  and  find  the  whole  business  of  govern- 
ment to  be  made  up  of  problems  which  he  cannot 
touch.  The  Catholic,  looking  on  the  natural  uni- 
verse, whether  material  or  human,  not  as  the  antag- 
onist, but  as  the  receptacle,  of  the  spiritual,  seeks  to 


226  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

conquer  the  World  for  the  Church,  and,  instead  of 
shunning  political  action,  is  ready  to  grasp  it  as  his 
instrument.  As  the  Gospel  is,  in  his  view,  but  the 
supplement  to  natural  Law,  so  is  the  Church  but 
the  climax  of  Government,  —  a  Divine  Polity  for 
ruling  the  world  in  affairs  of  Religion.  It  was  for 
want  of  this  view  that  the  younger  Newman,  while 
able  to  honor  a  Bishop  " as  a  Peer  of  Parliament" 
(irrespective  of  the  legislative  faculties  of  the  indi- 
vidual,) could  pay  no  homage  to  his  church  functions, 
but,  the  moment  he  turned  to  these,  looked  only  at 
the  personal  qualities  of  the  man.  The  elder  broth- 
er, preserving  the  analogy  between  the  temporal  and 
the  spiritual  constitution  of  the  human  world,  recog- 
nized a  corporate  rule  for  both  relations;  and  saw  no 
reason  why,  if  office  were  a  ground  of  reverence  in  an 
earthly  polity,  it  should  have  no  respect  in  a  divine. 
We  might  carry  this  comparison  of  the  two  schemes 
into  much  greater  detail,  without  any  straining  of 
its  fundamental  principle.  But  we  must  content 
ourselves  with  the  summary  statement  that,  while 
(1.)  the  worldly  and  unreiigious  live  wholly  in  the 
natural  and  ignore  the  spiritual ;  and  (2.)  the  Evan- 
gelical lives  wholly  in  the  spiritual  as  incompatible 
with  the  natural;  (3.)  the  Catholic  seeks  to  subju- 
gate the  natural  (as  he  conceives  God  does)  by  in- 
terpenetration  of  the  spiritual.  The  tendency  to  the 
one  or  the  other  of  these  religious  conceptions  marks 
the  distinction  between  two  great  families  of  minds. 
The  more  impulsive  and  loving  natures,  whose  good 
and  evil  are  alike  remote  from  self,  —  who  find  it  an 
ill  business  to  manage  themselves,  but  can  do  all 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  227 

things  by  the  inspiration  of  affection,  —  who  detest 
prudence  and  are  perverse  against  authority,  but  are 
docile  as  a  child  to  one  that  trusts  them  with  his  ten- 
derness, —  are  necessarily  drawn  to  the  Evangelical 
side.  Where  the  Will,  on  the  other  hand,  has  a 
greater  strength,  and  the  Conscience  a  minuter  vigi- 
lance ;  where  emotion  is  less  susceptible  of  extremes, 
and  persistent  disicpline  is  more  possible ;  there  re- 
ligion will  appear  to  be  less  a  conquest  of  the  soul 
by  Divine  aggression,  than  a  home  administration 
quietly  propagated  from  within ;  and  the  Catholic 
(which  is  also  the  Unitarian)  conception  will  prevail. 
Intellectual  power  may  attach  itself  indifferently  to 
either  side.  But,  if  we  mistake  not,  the  imaginative 
faculty  can  scarcely  coexist  in  any  high  degree  with 
the  Evangelical  type  of  thought.  Its  tendency  on  this 
side  is  always  to  romance,  which  is  the  invariable 
sign  of  feeble  imagination  ;  inasmuch  as  it  totally 
separates  the  real  from  the  ideal,  and  keeps  them 
apart  like  two  worlds  to  be  occupied  in  turns,  —  the 
dull  and  earthly,  —  the  glorious  and  divine.  In  the 
Catholic  theory,  where  the  perceptive  powers  are 
less  despised,  and  the  natural  and  physical  world 
is  deemed  not  incapable  of  being  the  receptacle  of 
God,  the  sense  of  Beauty  has  free  range :  it  medi- 
ates betwen  the  spheres  that  else  would  lie  apart, 
detects  the  ideal  in  the  real,  and,  like  a  golden  sun- 
set on  the  smoke-cloud  of  a  city,  glorifies  the  very 
soil  of  earth  with  heavenly  light.  We  are  convinced 
that  to  some  want  of  fulness  in  this  department  of 
our  author's  mind  must  be  attributed  many  of  the 
most  questionable  sentiments  characteristic  of  his 


228  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

book;  —  especially  his  impatience  at  the  historical 
details  of  the  life  of  Christ,  and  his  eagerness  to 
hide  the  mysterious  Jesus  behind  the  clouds  of  heav- 
en. Describing  his  impressions  on  first  making  the 
acquaintance  of  a  Unitarian,  he  says :  — 

"  I  now  discovered  that  there  was  a  deeper  distaste  in  me 
for  the  details  of  the  human  life  of  Christ  than  I  was  pre- 
viously conscious  of;  a  distaste  which  I  found  out  by  a  re- 
action from  the  minute  interest  felt  in  such  details  by  my 
new  friend.  For  several  years  more,  I  did  not  fully  under- 
stand how  and  why  this  was ;  viz.  that  my  religion  had  al- 
ways been  Pauline.  Christ  was  to  me  the  ideal  of  glorified 
human  nature,  but  I  needed  some  dimness  in  the  portrait  to 
give  play  to  my  imagination :  if  drawn  too  sharply  histori- 
cal, it  sank  into  commonplace  and  caused  a  revulsion  of 
feeling.  As  all  paintings  of  the  miraculous  used  to  dis- 
please and  even  disgust  me  from  a  boy  by  the  unbelief 
which  they  inspired  ;  so  if  any  one  dwelt  on  the  special 
proofs  of  tenderness  and  love  exhibited  in  certain  words  or 
actions  of  Jesus,  it  was  apt  to  call  out  in  me  a  sense,  that 
from  day  to  day  equal  kindness  might  often  be  met.  The 
imbecility  of  preachers,  who  would  dwell  on  such  words  as 
'  Weep  not,'  as  if  nobody  else  ever  uttered  such,  has  al- 
ways annoyed  me.  I  felt  it  impossible  to  obtain  a  worthy 
idea  of  Christ  from  studying  any  of  the  details  reported 
concerning  him.  If  I  dwelt  too  much  on  these,  I  got  a 
finite  object;  but  I  yearned  for  an  infinite  one  :  hence  my 
preference  for  John's  mysterious  Jesus."  —  p.  102. 

We  are  far  from  asserting  that  the  Unitarians  are 
a  peculiarly  imaginative  people :  and  the  disposi- 
tion, criticized  by  our  author,  to  magnify  small  and 
inexpressive  traits,  is  a  sure  indication  of  defect  in 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  229 

that  feeling  of  proportion  which  imagination  always 
involves.  But  the  tendency  to  unbelief  in  looking 
at  pictorial  representations  of  miracle ;  the  inability 
to  find  an  ideal  unity  in  the  real  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
or  to  see  in  that  gracious  and  majestic  form  the  spir- 
itual glory  for  which  the  heart  craves ;  and  the  ap- 
parent admission  that  any  thing  realized,  any  thing 
"  too  sharply  historical,"  thereby  must  "  sink  into 
commonplace  and  cause  a  revulsion  of  feeling " ; 
appear  to  us  curiously  to  illustrate  the  un-idealizing 
character  of  the  Evangelical  mind,  and  its  tendency 
to  run  into  romance.  We  have  not  hesitated  to 
dwell  on  the  distinct  mental  bases  of  the  rival  sys- 
tems of  religion,  because,  without  reference  to  them, 
many  of  the  experiences  recorded  in  this  volume  can 
scarcely  be  interpreted,  or  its  conclusions  estimated 
aright.  If  the  subject  has  brought  us  too  near  to  per- 
sonal criticism,  our  apology  must  be,  that,  where 
great  questions  of  faith  are  discussed  in  the  form  of 
self-revelations  from  an  individual  mind,  the  idiosyn- 
crasy of  the  narrator  is  necessarily  drawn  in  among 
the  elements  of  the  argument. 

The  close  of  his  Oxford  course  left  Mr.  Newman 
fresh  from  the  impression  of  Paley's  Horse  Paulinae, 
—  an  enthusiastical  and  somewhat  exclusive  disciple 
of  the  Pauline  Christianity.  He  was  thus  prepared, 
on  his  removal  to  a  tutorship  in  Wicklow,  to  fall  un- 
der the  powerful  influence  of  a  devoted  Evangelical 
missionary,  of  whom,  under  the  designation  of  "  the 
Irish  Clergyman,"  a  striking  picture  is  presented. 
Negligent  of  his  person,  careless  of  his  health,  cast- 
ing down  in  service  of  the  cross  the  wealth  of  intel- 
20 


230  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

lect  and  culture,  this  crippled  devotee  acquired,  by 
force  of  will  and  high  faithfulness  of  life,  an  ascen- 
dency, like  that  of  an  apostle,  over  our  author's 
mind.  As  the  theory  of  this  saintly  man  led  him  to 
scorn  every  pursuit  that  withdrew  him  from  prayer 
and  missionary  toil,  and  to  discard  every  book  ex- 
cept the  Bible,  so,  by  the  exercise  of  voluntary  pov- 
erty and  an  unsparing  self-sacrifice  to  the  spiritual 
interests  of  the  peasantry,  did  his  practice  severely 
realize  his  belief.  It  was  doubtless  this  solid  and  ab- 
solute sincerity  which  led  captive  a  soul  like  Mr. 
Newman's,  —  so  profoundly  truth-loving,  yet  at  that 
time  tremulous  perhaps  with  the  consciousness  of 
intellectual  tastes  and  social  interests  at  variance 
with  the  spiritual  concentration  required  by  his 
creed.  The  overpowering  impression  of  this  new 
friend's  character  at  once  inspired  him  with  a  wish 
to  engage  in  a  mission  to  the  heathen,  and  deepened 
in  his  mind  the  conviction,  that  the  great  instrument 
of  conversion  must  be  sought,  not  in  conclusive 
arguments,  but  in  persuasive  lives ;  that  the  criti- 
cal and  learned  evidences  on  which  the  miraculous 
claims  of  Christianity  are  made  to  rest  are  too 
unwieldy  to  be  generally  efficacious ;  and  that  the 
moral  appeal  of  the  Gospel  to  the  conscience  must 
be  the  main  reliance  for  evangelizing  the  world.  To 
embody  this  appeal  in  an  actual  church  or  fraternity 
planted  upon  Pagan  soil,  and  silently  appearing 
there  in  all  the  expressiveness  of  Christian  purity, 
patience,  and  loving  self-denial,  became  our  author's 
single  desire :  and  in  1830  he  went  out  to  Bagdad 
to  join  himself  to  a  community  of  Evangelical  emi- 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  231 

grants  already  established  there  with  similar  views 
under  the  influence  of  Mr.  Groves.  During  a  two 
years'  residence  in  Persia  began  the  series  of  corro- 
sions upon  the  strict  orthodoxy  of  his  creed,  under 
which,  after  another  period,  the  whole  system  of  Cal- 
vinism collapsed.  The  logical  activity  of  his  intel- 
lect worked,  for  the  present,  entirely  within  the  limits 
of  the  Evangelical  scheme,  and  in  complete  submis- 
sion to  the  letter  of  Scripture.  The  first  weakness 
detected  —  the  only  one  during  absence  in  the  East 
—  affected  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  He  found  it 
impossible  to  reconcile  the  manifest  subordination  of 
the  Son  to  the  Father  in  the  theology  of  Paul  and 
John  with  the  definitions  of  the  Athanasian  Creed. 
The  considerations  and  the  texts  which  forced  this 
conviction  upon  him,  like  most  of  the  trains  of 
thought  by  which  he  passed  to  ulterior  results,  are 
familiar  to  all  who  have  any  acquaintance  with  the 
Unitarian  controversy,  and  need  not  be  presented 
here.  Our  author  rested  for  a  while  in  the  Nicene 
doctrine  of  the  derived  nature  of  the  Son,  yet  his 
homogeneity  with  the  Father.  While  this  dogmatic 
direction  was  prominently  engaging  his  attention,  it 
is  plain  that  an  under-current  of  thought,  charged 
with  most  momentous  tendencies,  was  already  in 
motion ;  —  a  course  of  reflection  on  the  logic  of  relig- 
ious evidence,  and  the  unmanageable  nature  of  ex- 
ternal proof  in  relation  to  spiritual  truth.  The  fol- 
lowing incident  is  rich  in  suggestion  :  — 

"  While  we  were  at  Aleppo,  I  one  day  got  into  religious 
discourse  with  a  Mohammedan  carpenter,  which  left  on 
me  a  lasting  impression.  Among  other  matters,  I  was  pe- 


232  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

culiarly  desirous  of  disabusing  him  of  the  current  notion  of 
his  people,  that  our  Gospels  are  spurious  narratives  of  late 
date.  I  found  great  difficulty  of  expression ;  but  the  man 
listened  to  me  with  much  attention,  and  I  was  encouraged 
to  exert  myself.  He  waited  patiently  till  I  had  done,  and 
then  spoke  to  the  following  effect :  —  'I  will  tell  you,  Sir, 
how  the  case  stands.  God  has  given  to  you  English  a 
great  many  good  gifts.  You  make  fine  ships  and  sharp  pen- 
knives, and  good  cloth  and  cottons,  and  you  have  rich  no- 
bles and  brave  soldiers  ;  and  you  write  and  print  many 
learned  books  (dictionaries  and  grammars)  :  all  this  is  of 
God.  But  there  is  one  thing  that  God  has  withheld  from 
you,  and  has  revealed  to  us  ;  and  that  is,  the  knowledge 
of  the  true  religion,  by  which  one  may  be  saved.'  When 
he  thus  ignored  my  argument  (which  was  probably  quite 
unintelligible  to  him),  and  delivered  his  simple  protest,  I 
was  silenced,  and  at  the  same  time  amused.  But  the  more 
I  thought  it  over,  the  more  instruction  I  saw  in  the  case. 
His  position  towards  me  was  exactly  that  of  a  humble 
Christian  towards  an  unbelieving  philosopher  ;  nay,  that  of 
the  early  Apostles  or  Jewish  prophets  towards  the  proud, 
cultivated,  wordly-wise,  and  powerful  heathen.  This  not 
only  showed  the  vanity  of  any  argument  to  him,  except 
one  purely  addressed  to  his  moral  and  spiritual  faculties  ; 
but  it  also  indicated  to  me  that  ignorance  has  its  spiritual 
self-sufficiency  as  well  as  erudition  ;  and  that  if  there  is  a 
Pride  of  Reason,  so  is  there  a  Pride  of  Unreason.  But 
though  this  rested  in  my  memory,  it  was  not  long  before  I 
worked  out  all  the  results  of  that  thought."  —  p.  52. 

The  love  among  saintly  hearts  is  deep :  but  in  the 
same  proportion  their  jealousy  is  quick.  No  detect- 
ive police  has  a  vigilance  so  keen  as  the  instinct  of  or- 
thodoxy. On  Mr.  Newman's  returning  to  England 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  233 

in  hope  of  swelling  the  numbers  of  the  Persian  Mis- 
sion, he  had  not  performed  his  quarantine  on  board 
the  ship  before  he  found  that  rumors  of  his  unsound- 
ness  in  the  faith  had  preceded  him.  The  usual  re- 
sults followed :  for  in  these  cases,  where  there  is 
nothing  to  be  forgiven,  Christians  never  forgive. 
Having  spoken  at  some  religious  meetings,  —  unor- 
dained  as  he  was,  —  he  was  cut  off  by  his  brother. 
Writing  to  the  Irish  clergyman  to  acknowledge  his 
Nicene  tendency,  and  to  ask  for  an  Athanasian  ex- 
planation of  the  text,  "  To  us  there  is  but  one  God, 
the  Father,"  —  he  was  peremptorily,  and  on  pain  of 
alienated  friendship,  desired  to  confess  that  "the 
Father  "  meant  "  the  Trinity." 

"  The  Father  meant  the  Trinity !  !  For  the  first  time 
I  perceived,  that  so  vehement  a  champion  of  the  suffi- 
ciency of  the  Scripture,  so  stanch  an  opposer  of  Creeds  and 
Churches,  was  wedded  to  an  extra-Scriptural  creed  of  his 
own,  by  which  he  tested  the  spiritual  state  of  his  brethren. 
I  was  in  despair,  and  like  a  man  thunderstruck.  I  had 
nothing  more  to  say.  Two  more  letters  from  the  same 
hand  I  saw,  the  latter  of  which  was  to  threaten  some  new 
acquaintances  who  were  kind  to  me,  (persons  wholly  un- 
known to  him,)  that,  if  they  did  not  desist  from  sheltering 
me,  and  break  off  intercourse,  they  should,  as  far  as  his  in- 
fluence went,  themselves  everywhere  be  cut  off  from  Chris- 
tian communion  and  recognition.  This  will  suffice  to  in- 
dicate the  sort  of  social  persecution  through  which,  after 
a  succession  of  struggles,  I  found  myself  separated  from 
persons  whom  I  had  trustingly  admired,  and  on  whom  I  had 
most  counted  for  union :  with  whom  I  fondly  believed  my- 
self bound  up  for  eternity  ;  of  whom  some  were  my  previ- 
ously intimate  friends,  while  for  others,  even  on  slight  ac- 
20* 


234  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

quaintance,  I  would  have  performed  menial  offices,  and 
thought  myself  honored  ;  whom  I  still  looked  upon  as  the 
blessed  and  excellent  of  the  earth,  and  the  special  favor- 
ites of  Heaven  ;  whose  company  (though  oftentimes  they 
were  considerably  my  inferiors  either  in  rank  or  in  knowl- 
edge and  cultivation)  I  would  have  chosen  in  preference  to 
that  of  nobles ;  whom  I  loved  solely  because  I  thought 
them  to  love  God,  and  of  whom  I  asked  nothing,  but  that 
they  would  admit  me  as  the  meanest  and  most  frail  of  dis- 
ciples. My  heart  was  ready  to  break  :  I  wished  for  a 
woman's  soul,  that  I  might  weep  in  floods.  O  Dogma ! 
Dogma  !  how  dost  thou  trample  under  foot  love,  truth,  con- 
science, justice !  Was  ever  a  Moloch  worse  than  thou  ? 
Burn  me  at  the  stake ;  then  Christ  will  receive  me,  and 
saints  beyond  the  grave  will  love  me,  though  the  saints  here 
know  me  not.  But  now  I  am  alone  in  the  world  ;  I  can  trust 
no  one.  The  new  acquaintances  who  barely  tolerated  me, 
and  old  friends  whom  reports  have  not  reached  (if  such 
there  be),  may  turn  against  me  with  animosity  to-morrow, 
as  those  have  done  from  whom  I  could  least  have  imagined 
it.  Where  is  union  ?  Where  is  the  Church  which  was  to 
convert  the  heathen  ?"  —  p.  58. 

So  bitter  an  experience  cannot  befall  a  sensitive 
and  trusting  soul,  without  driving  it  with  sadness 
in  upon  itself,  and  shutting  it  up  in  a  kind  of  lonely 
love,  amid  the  sufficing  sympathy  of  God.  A  heart 
of  noble  faith  cannot,  indeed,  like  the  worldly  who 
have  nothing  in  them  that  will  keep,  be  soured  by 
such  disappointment ;  and  will  even  turn  into  a  fruit- 
ful sorrow  what  to  the  others  is  an  acrid  poison  eat- 
ing to  the  very  pith  of  life.  But  still,  cruelty  and 
injustice  cannot  go  for  nothing,  or,  by  the  miraculous 
touch  of  ever  so  divine  a  spirit,  be  transmuted  into 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  235 

only  good.  And  there  is  a  religious  type  of  the  un- 
happy influence  produced  by  mortified  hope,  —  a  res- 
olute isolation  of  soul,  lofty  towards  men,  that  its 
tenderness  may  be  reserved  entire  for  God;  —  a  jeal- 
ous zeal  against  the  idols  of  the  mind; — and  too 
quick  an  apprehension  of  thraldom  from  every  affec- 
tion that  comes  with  offers  of  mediation  between 
earth  and  heaven.  Some  traces  of  such  a  mood  we 
do  think  apparent  in  Mr.  Newman's  later  course  of 
thought, —  an  excessive  resolve  not  to  be  imposed 
upon  by  conventional  or  got-up  feelings,  —  a  prosaic, 
not  to  say  embittered,  estimate  of  human  nature,  — 
and  a  slowness  to  lay  the  heart  freely  open  to  rev- 
erential admiration.  If  it  be  so,  it  is  but  too  high- 
strained  a  faithfulness  to  this  noble  vow  and  sweet 
submission  :  — 

"  The  resolution  then  rose  within  me,  to  love  all  good 
men  from  a  distance,  but  never  again  to  count  on  perma- 
nent friendship  with  any  one  who  was  not  himself  cast  out 
as  a  heretic.  Nor,  in  fact,  did  the  storm  of  distress  which 
these  events  inflicted  on  me  subside,  until  I  willingly  re- 
ceived the  task  of  withstanding  it  as  God's  trial  whether  I 
was  faithful.  As  soon  as  I  gained  strength  to  say,  '  O  my 
Lord,  I  will  bear  not  this  only,  but  more  also,  for  thy  sake, 
for  conscience,  and  for  truth,'  —  my  sorrows  vanished  until 
the  next  blow  and  the  next  inevitable  pang.  At  last  my 
heart  had  died  within  me,  the  bitterness  of  death  was  past. 
I  was  satisfied  to  be  hated  by  the  saints,  and  to  reckon  that 
those  who  had  not  yet  turned  against  me  would  not  bear 
me  much  longer.  Then  I  conceived  the  belief,  that,  if  we 
may  not  make  a  heaven  on  earth  for  ourselves  out  of  the 
love  of  saints,  it  is  in  order  that  we  may  find  a  truer  heaven 
in  God's  love."  —  p.  63. 


236  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

The  consciousness  of  unjust  treatment  had  the 
salutary  effect  of  raising  in  our  author's  esteem  the 
simple  virtues  of  the  good  natural  heart;  the  kindly 
presence  of  which  would  have  protected  him  against 
the  social  persecution  brought  to  bear  upon  him. 
He  knew  that  the  friends  who  were  casting  him  off 
were  persons  of  deeply  devout  minds.  He  knew 
that  they  did  him  cruel  wrong.  And  this  combina- 
tion forced  upon  him  the  certainty,  "  that  spirituality 
is  no  adequate  security  for  sound  moral  discernment." 
A  kindlier  disposition  grew  up  towards  the  common 
world  of  men,  in  whom  the  moral  sentiments  had  not 
exalted  themselves  'into  religion :  and  a  course  of 
new  thought  arose,  merging  at  last  in  the  perception 
that  Religion  is  but  the  culminating  meridian  of 
Morals,  and  God  approachable  only  by  the  aim  at 
infinite  excellence.  It  was  plain,  too,  that  those  who 
did  violence  to  their  amiable  nature  in  fancied  obe- 
dience to  the  requirements  of  the  Bible,  easily  fell 
into  crooked  and  narrow  ways  :  so  that,  be  the  Scrip- 
ture rule  ever  so  unerring,  it  needs  either  an  infalli- 
ble guide,  or  a  right  mind,  to  interpret  and  apply  it. 
No  inroad,  however,  had  yet  been  made  upon  our 
author's  reliance  on  the  sacred  writings,  as  oracles 
of  supreme  and  perfect  truth;  or  upon  any  portion 
of  Calvinistic  economy  of  salvation.  The  new  force 
given  to  the  moral  sentiments  revived  an  old  aver- 
sion to  the  doctrine  of  reprobation,  and  rendered  him 
so  dissatisfied  with  the  appeal  to  Sovereign  Might 
in  answer  to  objections  springing  from  the  sense  of 
justice,  that  even  Paul's  authority,  "  Nay,  but,  O 
man,  who  art  thou  that  repliest  against  God?" 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  237 

could  not  stifle  his  repugnance.  In  an  understand- 
ing thus  disposed,  in  which  Arbitrary  and  Infinite 
Will  has  ceased  to  afford  a  solid  basis,  it  is  plain 
that  the  whole  Genevan  system  is  undermined ;  and 
accordingly  it  rapidly  became  a  mass  of  ruins.  First, 
some  stealthy  glances  at  (we  presume)  Dr.  South- 
wood  Smith's  Treatise  on  the  Divine  Government, 
in  the  library  of  an  orthodox  friend,  opened  up  the 
question  of  eternal  punishment:  and  the  doctrine 
was  discarded  on  grounds  both  critical  and  moral. 
Next,  the  Deity  of  Christ  was  lowered  another  step, 
from  the  consideration  that  a  derived  being  must  be 
derived  in  time,  and  cannot  be  co-eternal  with  his 
Source :  and  then  another  step  again,  in  order  to 
save  some  doctrine  of  Atonement,  and  obtain  a  dead 
Christ  on  Calvary,  —  which  could  not  be  if  his  na- 
ture were  beyond  the  Arian  measure.  Finally,  the 
entailment  of  moral  corruption  on  the  posterity  of 
Adam  is  discovered  to  be  without  support  from 
Scripture,  and  intrinsically  absurd :  and  the  deprav- 
ity of  human  nature  is  reduced  to  the  historically 
attested  fact  of  wide-spread  moral  evil.  Upon  all 
these  topics  the  narrative  abounds  with  terse  and 
animated  reasonings.  Their  freshness,  however,  is 
mainly  due  to  the  directness  with  which  they  proceed 
from  the  independent  action  of  our  author's  mind. 
In  themselves  they  are  not  new  to  persons  so  far 
gone  in  heresy  as  our  readers  are  likely  to  be :  and 
we  quit  this  part  of  our  work  with  one  citation.  It 
contains  an  important  testimony  on  behalf  of  an 
opinion,  exceedingly  startling  to  Unitarians,  but,  as 
we  have  long  been  convinced,  radically  sound.  Mr. 


238  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

• 

Newman  is  speaking  of  his  state  of  mind  when  he 
had  resolved  the  riddle  of  the  Trinity,  and  become  — 
in  worship  —  Unitarian  :  — 

"  After  all,  could  I  seriously  think,  that  morally  and  spir- 
itually I  was  either  better  or  worse  for  this  discovery  ?  I 
could  not  pretend  that  I  was. 

"  This  showed  me  that,  if  a  man  of  partially  unsound  and 
visionary  mind  made  the  angel  Gabriel  a  fourth  person  in 
the  Godhead,  it  might  cause  no  difference  whatever  in  the 
actings  of  his  spirit.  The  great  question  would  be,  whether 
he  ascribed  the  same  moral  perfection  to  Gabriel  as  to  the 
Father.  If  so,  to  worship  him  would  be  no  degradation  to 
the  soul  ;  even  if  absolute  omnipotence  were  not  attributed, 
nay,  nor  a  past  eternal  existence.  It  thus  became  clear 
to  me,  that  Polytheism,  as  such,  is  not  a  moral  and  spiritual, 
but  at  most  only  an  intellectual  error  :  and  that  its  practical 
evil  consists  in  worshipping  beings  whom  we  represent  to  our 
imaginations  as  morally  imperfect.  Conversely,  one  who 
imputes  to  God  sentiments  and  conduct  which  in  man  he 
would  call  capricious  or  cruel,  such  a  one,  even  if  he  be  as 
Monotheistic  as  a  Mussulman,  admits  into  his  soul  the  whole 
virus  of  Idolatry."  —  p.  89. 

This  crisis  in  Mr.  Newman's  course  of  thought, 
when  his  orthodoxy  was  gone,  but  his  faith  in  the 
authority  of  Scripture  remained  intact,  was  highly 
favorable  for  his  introduction  to  the  Unitarian  con- 
ception of  Christianity:  and  it  so  happened  that  just 
then  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  professor  of 
that  faith,  evidently  qualified,  by  tenderness  and 
piety  of  spirit,  as  well  as  by  familiarity  with  the 
theology  of  his  church,  to  represent  the  system  in 
its  most  attractive  form.  It  had,  however,  no  charm 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  239 

for  our  author,  whose  training  had  been  too  exclu- 
sively Pauline  to  remove  its  Holy  of  Holies  into  the 
Gospels ;  who  could  not  take  up  with  the  Judaical 
Messiah  of  Matthew,  especially  with  the  loss  of  the 
first  chapters,  by  which  alone  the  human  Jesus  could 
show  title  to  be  Lord  of  the  living  and  the  dead, 
and  competency  to  stand  forth  as  the  moral  image 
of  God.  So  he  passed  this  sect  by,  and  pursued  his 
way ;  taking  up  now  a  new  set  of  researches :  no 
longer  trying  dogmas  by  the  test  of  Scripture;  but 
trying  Scripture  by  the  test  of  History,  Science, 
Criticism,  and  all  the  relevant  fixed  points  in  human 
knowledge.  The  question  has  long  been  struggling 
for  attention  in  his  mind,  what  was  the  just  bounda- 
ry between  the  authority  of  the  letter  and  the  rights 
of  the  spirit,  —  between  revealed  and  natural  relig- 
ion. The  principle  on  which,  while  yet  a  student, 
he  had  provisionally  decided  it,  is  the  only  one  of 
which  the  case  admits:  he  had  consulted  the  compe- 
tency of  the  human  reason  and  conscience  in  mat- 
ters of  religion ;  and  only  beyond  the  limits  of  that 
competency  had  allowed  miraculous  attestation  to 
possess  oracular  rights.  In  the  application  of  this 
principle,  however,  lay  the  real  difficulty:  and  here, 
as  he  freely  allows,  he  had  fallen  into  some  vacilla- 
tion and  inconsistency.  As  the  process  of  Evangel- 
ical conversion  begins  with  appealing  to  the  sense  of 
sin,  and  relies  on  the  fears  and  despair  incident  to 
conscious  alienation  from  God,  his  creed  had  obliged 
him  to  assume,  among  the  data  of  the  natural  mind, 
a  perception  of  right  and  wrong,  a  knowledge  of 
God  as  Holy,  and  an  anticipation  of  retributive  jus- 


240  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

i 

tice.  From  this  it  would  seem  irresistibly  to  follow, 
that  the  whole  of  the  moral  elements  of  religion  are 
within  the  reach  of  the  human  apprehension :  for 
the  consciousness  which  reports  to  us  our  alienation 
cannot  be  insensible  to  its  removal :  and  if  in  the 
one  case  it  forecasts  the  shadow  of  penal  suffering, 
it  cannot  but  throw  forward  in  the  other  the  promis- 
sory light  of  immortal  joy.  Yet  this  brighter  half  of 
the  truth,  —  comprising  the  scheme  of  human  recov- 
ery, —  Mr.  Newman  had  set  down  as  beyond  the 
ken  of  all  our  faculties ;  regarding  the  Atonement, 
the  Reconciliation,  and  the  Life  Eternal,  as  outward, 
facts  of  the  supernatural  kind,  cognizable  only  by 
miraculous  media  of  attestation.  The  two  lists  of 
truths,  professedly  separated  from  each  other  as  re- 
spectively internal  and  external, —  subjective  condi- 
tions and  objective  facts,  —  by  no  means  answer  to 
this  classification.  The  peace  and  hope  of  a  recon- 
ciled mind  are  as  truly  matters  of  spiritual  expe- 
rience as  the  fever  and  terror  of  guilt:  and  on  the 
other  hand,  the  existence  and  Providence  of  God 
are  no  less  objective  facts  than  the  life  after  death. 
Moreover,  while  in  theory  the  only  function  reserved 
for  revelation  was  the  communication  of  "  external 
truths,"  —  the  internal  and  spiritual  being  left  to  na- 
ture,—  the  main  practical  reason  for  clinging  to  the 
miraculous  had  been  a  distrust  of  the  depraved  mor- 
al perceptions  of  man.  Thus  they  are  first  set  up  as 
our  sole  reporters  of  internal  truths,  and  then  put 
down  as  untrustworthy :  and,  to  check  and  correct 
them,  we  are  referred  to  an  informant  whose  cogni- 
zance is  limited  to  the  external.  Whether  some 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  241 

lingering  traces  of  this  logical  confusion,  which  be- 
sets almost  every  scheme  of  Christian  Evidences, 
may  not  even  yet  be  found  in  our  author's  creed,  we 
will  not  here  pause  to  decide.  For  some  time  it 
continued  to  entangle  him.  The  habit  of  distrust- 
ing the  moral  judgment,  and  of  placing  strong  con- 
fidence in  the  results  of  inductive  science  and  histor- 
ical criticism,  led  him  to  test  the  infallibility  of 
Scripture,  in  the  first  instance,  by  its  verdict  on 
matters  clearly  within  the  range  of  the  common  un- 
derstanding, —  of  Geography,  Physiology,  Natural 
History,  Language,  &c.  For  one  prepossessed  with 
the  demand  for  an  unerring  record,  —  one  whose 
early  faith  had  taken  into  its  very  essence  the  myths 
of  Genesis,  no  less  than  the  story  of  Gethsemane, 
—  one  who,  under  guidance  of  the  systematizing 
Paul,  had  worked  his  way  back  with  one  idea 
through  all  providential  history  from  the  Ascension 
to  the  Creation,  and  who  expected,  on  retracing  his 
steps,  to  find  it  all  a  drama,  with  the  opening  in  Eden, 
the  development  among  the  prophets,  and  the  catas- 
trophe on  Calvary ;  it  is  easy  to  foresee  the  result. 
Bibliolatry  was  replaced  by  Iconoclasm :  and  the 
Scriptures  lost  by  degrees,  not  simply  their  super- 
natural authority,  but  their  natural  credit.  The 
course  of  discovery  was  so  little  different  from  the 
usual  one,  that  it  is  needless  to  dwell  upon  it  in  de- 
tail. Beginning  with  the  genealogies  in  Matthew 
and  Luke,  so  evidently  faulty  and  irreconcilable  in 
their  contents,  and  inconclusive  in  result,  Mr.  New- 
man soon  found  that  no  such  thing  as  a  harmony  of 
the  Gospels  could  be  made,  and  that  they  must  be 
21 


242  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

severally  treated  (the  first  three  constituting  practi- 
cally only  one)  as  human  and  fallible  records.  The 
same  criticism,  when  applied  to  the  Old  Testament, 
invalidated  the  legends  of  the  Fall  and  the  Deluge, 
and  brought  to  light  the  composite  structure  of  the 
Pentateuch,  out  of  various  preexisting  materials. 
The  direct  sanction  of  Jehovah  to  the  iniquities  of 
early  Israelitish  history  is  found  to  be  too  distinctly 
claimed  to  be  explained  away  by  any  theory  of  de- 
velopment or  accommodation.  The  demonology  of 
the  first  three  Gospels  seems  so  completely  an  inte- 
gral and  even  a  principal  part  of  their  evidence  for 
the  Messiahship,  that  the  misconceptions  involved 
in  it  affect,  in  our  author's  estimation,  their  whole 
case,  and  destroy  all  confidence  in  their  narrations. 
One  reliance  after  another  thus  giving  way,  he  rests 
for  a  while  on  a  consolatory  suggestion  of  Dr.  Ar- 
nold's,—  that  the  Gospel  of  John  stands  alone  and 
unassailable  among  the  materials  of  primitive  Chris- 
tian history.  The  sober-minded  Paul,  too,  had  borne 
his  witness  to  the  risen  Christ ;  and  Peter  had  re- 
ferred to  the  Transfiguration.  Not  even  this  narrow 
footing  retains  its  firmness  long.  Without  pronoun- 
cing against  the  authenticity  of  the  fourth  Gospel, 
Mr.  Newman  is  so  much  impressed  with  the  coloring 
evidently  thrown  over  all  its  contents  by  the  author's 
own  mind,  as  well  as  by  the  negative  evidence 
against  the  public  and  stupendous  miracles  which, 
half  a  century  after  their  alleged  occurrence,  he  ex- 
clusively reports,  that  he  renounces  the  book  as  un- 
historical.  There  remains,  however,  the  dear  and 
venerated  Paul.  Alas !  he  descants  upon  the  gift  of 


PHASES    OF    FAITH. 

tongues!  and  our  author,  having  fallen  in  the  way 
of  the  Irvingite  pretensions  to  this  endowment,  had 
learned  at  once  to  despise  it,  and  to  believe  it  iden- 
tical in  London  with  the  apostolic  phenomena  at 
Corinth.  This,  with  the  good  apostle's  easy  faith  in 
trance  or  vision,  betrays  such  eccentric  notions  of 
the  logic  of  evidence,  that  no  high  estimate  can  be 
made  of  his  testimony  to  the  resurrection.  He  held 
himself  indeed  somewhat  proudly  independent  of  all 
natural  sources  of  information  respecting  Christ, 
and  declared  his  Gospel  to  be  a  separate  and  person- 
al revelation.  Unless  we  know  something  of  the 
process  which  Paul  interpreted  into  divine  communi- 
cation, and  could  assure  ourselves  that  it  was  not 
wholly  subjective,  we  should  not  be  justified  in  ac- 
cepting objective  history  on  his  word.  So  the  Apos- 
tle of  the  Gentiles,  revered  for  his  spiritual  great- 
ness, is  allowed,  as  a  witness,  to  pass  dishonored 
away.  One  only  hope  yet  remained.  The  main 
and  central  personage  might  be  divine,  though  inac- 
cessible through  the  unskilful  reports  of  companions 
and  followers.  There  was  a  message  worthy  of  God 
to  send,  and,  if  the  intended  object  of  faith  at  all, 
needful  for  man  thus  to  receive,  —  the  tidings  of  an 
immortal  life :  perhaps,  after  all,  Jesus  was  invested 
with  the  Messiahship  to  be  the  bearer  of  this  truth. 
Was  he  then  the  Messiah  ?  —  For  an  answer  to  this 
question  we  need  not  depend  entirely  on  the  evan- 
gelical records.  We  know  in  outline  both  the  histo- 
ry of  the  Founder  of  Christianity,  and  the  course 
run  by  his  Religion.  We  know  also  whence  the  pic- 
ture is  drawn  of  the  Ideal  Personage  fore-announced 


244  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

as  the  Messiah.  By  comparing  the  preconception 
with  the  facts,  we  can  pronounce  whether  a  realiza- 
tion has  taken  place.  Mr.  Newman's  examination 
dissipates  the  Messianic  prophecies  altogether;  and 
he  concludes  that  the  last  claim  on  behalf  of  Jesus 
vanishes  with  them.  Finally,  he  digresses  into  a 
collateral  discussion  of  the  claims  of  Christianity  on 
the  gratitude  of  mankind  for  its  beneficent  influence 
on  civilization  :  and  he  gives  it  as  his  judgment,  that 
neither  the  woman  nor  the  slave  has  any  clear  rea- 
son for  looking  on  the  Gospel  as  an  emancipating 
agency :  and  that  we  owe  the  Reformation  less  to 
the  disinterred  Scriptures  and  the  energies  of  Luther, 
than  to  the  Heathen  moralists  and  the  revival  of  let- 
ters. Thus,  with  relentless  perseverance,  does  our 
author  wage  war  with  every  objective  support  of 
Religion,  and  not  rest  till,  by  sweeping  off  every  me- 
dium, he  has  left  a  clear  space  between  the  individ- 
ual soul  and  God.  That,  with  one  so  rich  in  devout 
and  lofty  sentiment,  this  may  all  take  place,  and 
cause  "  no  convulsion  of  mind,  no  emptiness  of  soul, 
no  inward  practical  change,"  we  fully  believe ;  we 
think  the  time  is  come  when  the  whole  series  of  ex- 
ternal questions  noticed  by  Mr.  Newman  should  be 
discussed  without  expressions  of  holy  horror,  as  if 
the  ultimate  essence  of  religion  were  profanely 
touched :  and  ere  we  proceed  to  declare  our  strong 
dissent  from  the  most  important  of  the  author's  neg- 
ative conclusions,  we  desire  to  accept,  upon  his  own 
terms,  the  claim  of  spiritual  fellowship  preferred  in 
these  admirable  sentences :  — 

"  I  know  that  many  Evangelicals  will  reply,  that  I  never 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  245 

can  have  had  '  the  true  '  faith  ;  else  I  could  never  have  lost 
it :  and  as  for  my  not  being  conscious  of  spiritual  change, 
they  will  accept  this  as  confirming  their  assertion.  Un- 
doubtedly I  cannot  prove  that  I  ever  felt  as  they  now  feel. 
Perhaps  they  love  their  present  opinions  more  than  truth, 
and  are  careless  to  examine  and  verify  them  :  with  that  I 
claim  no  fellowship.  But  there  are  Christians  of  another 
stamp,  who  love  their  creed  only  because  they  believe  it  to 
be  true,  but  love  truth,  as  such,  and  truthfulness,  more  than 
any  creed :  with  these  I  claim  fellowship.  Their  love  to 
God  and  man,  their  allegiance  to  righteousness  and  true  ho- 
liness, will  not  be  in  suspense,  and  liable  to  be  overturned 
by  new  discoveries  in  geology  and  in  ancient  inscriptions, 
or  by  improved  criticisms  of  texts  and  of  history  ;  nor  have 
they  any  imaginable  interest  in  thwarting  the  advance  of 
scholarship.  It  is  strange  indeed  to  undervalue  that  Faith, 
which  alone  is  purely  moral  and  spiritual,  alone  rests  on  a 
basis  that  cannot  be  shaken,  alone  lifts  the  possessor  above 
the  conflicts  of  erudition,  and  makes  it  impossible  for  him  to 
fear  the  increase  of  knowledge."  —  p.  201. 

When  we  say  that  with  by  far  the  greater  part  of 
Mr.  Newman's  criticism  on  the  Old  Testament  we 
are  disposed  to  agree,  and  that  we  would  by  no 
means  ask  equal  and  indiscriminate  admission  for 
all  the  contents  of  the  New,  it  will  be  plain  that  we 
are  no  Bibliolaters.  But  in  simple  obedience  to  the 
feeling  of  literary  justice,  we  must  profess  our  opin- 
ion, that  the  primitive  Christian  records  do  not  re- 
ceive fair  treatment  at  his  hands.  The  flaws  which 
he  enumerates,  even  if  all  admitted  to  be  there, 
would  not  invalidate  the  large  masses  of  history 
which  he  treats  as  worthless  on  their  account :  nor 
is  it  well  to  throw  away  wholesale  such  fruits  of  a 
21' 


246  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

tree  of  life,  —  reproductive  seed  and  all,  —  in  offence 
at  the  spots  upon  the  skin.  Whether,  when  the  ne- 
cessary deductions  have  been  made,  what  remains  be 
worth  preserving,  —  whether  it  be  essence  or  only 
accident,  —  must  certainly  depend  on  our  precon- 
ception of  what  we  have  a  right  to  expect  from  the 
document.  If  we  must  find  evidence  enough  to 
prove  the  book  an  oracle,  and  to  establish  all  the 
sentiments,  precepts,  and  beliefs  therein  attributed 
even  to  its  chief  personage  in  the  place  of  obligatory 
rules  or  incontrovertible  truths,  we  freely  own  that 
the  enterprise  is  hopeless.  But  that  Revelation  can 
be  made  only  in  the  shape  of  orders  imposed  upon 
the  will,  or  information  communicated  to  the  under- 
standing, is  a  postulate  which  we  cannot  allow. 
God  may  speak  to  us,  —  in  preternatural  as  in  nat- 
ural providence,  —  through  our  moral  perceptions 
and  affections,  —  according  to  the  manner  of  Art,  by 
creation  of  spiritual  Beauty,  rather  than  after  the 
type  of  Science,  by  logical  delivery  of  truth.  In  this 
case,  all  that  can  be  required  of  the  vehicle  is,  that 
it  be  an  adequate  and  preservative  frame-work  for 
the  Divine  image  presented  before  the  human  soul. 
In  the  Gospels,  taken  with  relation  to  the  Pauline 
writings,  this  requisition  appears  to  us  fully  met. 
Whatever  uncertainty  there  may  be,  in  this  or  that 
detail,  as  to 'what  Christ  did,  there  is  surely  no  rea- 
sonable doubt  as  to  what  he  was  :  and  if  this  be  left, 
then,  so  far  from  all  being  lost,  the  essential  power 
of  the  Christian  religion  is  permanently  safe.  To 
our  author's  strictures  on  this  conception  of  Chris- 
tianity we  shall  hereafter  advert :  at  present  we  post- 


PHASES    OF    FAITH. 

pone  the  dogmatic  to  the  Biblical  question,  whether 
in  the  Evangelists'  writings  we  possess  an  authentic 
and  divine  picture  of  character.  The  tendency  of 
Mr.  Newman's  mind  to  external  observation  is  so 
strong,  that  he  rarely  resorts  to  the  higher  moral  crit- 
icism which  affects  this  point.  While  he  repeatedly 
intimates  his  opinion  that  the  reverential  estimate  of 
the  character  of  Christ  is  a  baseless  exaggeration, 
we  remember  only  two  direct  apologies  for  this  opin- 
ion. The  first  is  stated  in  the  following  passage, 
where,  after  justly  vindicating  the  position,  that  mir- 
acles cannot  turn  aside  the  common  laws  of  moral- 
ity, he  adds,  — 

"  But  if  only  a  small  immorality  is  concerned,  shall  we 
then  say  that  a  miracle  may  justify  it  ?  Could  it  author- 
ize me  to  plait  a  whip  of  small  cords,  and  flog  a  preferment- 
hunter  out  of  the  pulpit  ?  or  would  it  justify  me  in  publicly 
calling  the  Queen  and  her  Ministers  '  a  brood  of  vipers,  who 
cannot  escape  the  damnation  of  hell '  ?  Such  questions  go 
very  deep  into  the  heart  of  the  Christian  claims."  — p.  151. 

The  cleansing  of  the  Temple  "  a  small  immoral- 
ity"! an  offence  against  politeness !  Yes:  the  pro- 
phetic spirit  is  sometimes  oblivious  of  the  rules  of 
the  drawing-room  :  and  inspired  Conscience,  like  the 
inspiring  God,  seeing  a  hypocrite,  will  take  the  lib- 
erty to  say  so,  and  to  act  accordingly.  Are  the  su- 
perficial amenities,  the  soothing  fictions,  the  smoth- 
erings of  the  burning  heart,  needful  for  the  common 
usages  of  civilization  and  the  comfortable  intercourse 
of  equals,  really  paramount  in  this  world,  and  never 
to  give  way  ?  and  when  a  soul  of  power,  unable  to 
refrain,  rubs  off,  though  it  be  with  rasping  words,  all 


248  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  varnish  from  rottenness  and  lies,  is  he  to  be  tried 
in  our  courts  of  compliment  for  a  misdemeanor  ?  Is 
there  never  a  duty  higher  than  that  of  either  pitying 
or  converting  guilty  men,  —  the  duty  of  publicly  ex- 
posing them  ?  of  awakening  the  popular  conscience, 
and  sweeping  away  the  conventional  timidities,  for 
a  severe  return  to  truth  and  reality?  No  rule  of 
morals  can  be  recognized  as  just,  which  prohibits 
conformity  of  human  speech  to  fact,  and  insists  on 
terms  of  civility  being  kept  with  all  manner  of  in- 
iquity. Offensive  as  may  be  the  expression  "  brood 
of  vipers,"  it  is  hardly  so  offensive  as  the  thing- ;  and 
when  corrupt  and  venomous  times  have  not  only 
generated  it,  but  brought  it  to  coil  around  the  altar, 
and  hinder  the  approach  of  hearts  too  pure  to  wor- 
ship it,  can  any  law  of  God  forbid  to  crush  it  with 
the  heel  of  scorn  ?  There  are  crises  in  human  af- 
fairs, when  the  sympathies  of  noble  minds,  like  par- 
ties in  a  convulsed  and  struggling  nation,  cannot 
avoid  vehement  contrast  and  disruption  ;  when  com- 
passion for  a  deluded  people  involves  open  denun- 
ciation of  the  deceivers  who  ought  to  be  the  guides ; 
and  when  scalding  invective  —  the  ultima  ratio  of 
speech  —  becomes  as  much  a  necessity  of  justice 
and  as  little  a  violation  of  any  worthy  love,  as  an 
appeal  to  the  sword  by  the  redeemers  of  an  injured 
Commonwealth.  The  presumed  analogy  between 
Mr.  Newman's  infliction  of  personal  castigation  on 
a  clergyman  in  the  pulpit  and  Christ's  act  in  driving 
the  sheep  and  oxen  from  the  Temple  courts  is  not 
fortunate.  Indeed,  we  must  say,  in  reference  to  this 
whole  stricture,  that  Criticism,  in  its  lashing  moods, 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  249 

has  seldom,  in  our  opinion,  plaited  a  whip  of  smaller 
cords. 

The  other  moral  charge  against  the  Author  of 
Christianity  is  rather  implied  than  directly  stated, 
and  is  necessarily  mixed  up  with  other  considera- 
tions not  properly  moral.  He  gave  himself  out  as 
the  Messiah  ;  and  he  was  evidently  not  Messiah :  he 
must  have  been  conscious  of  his  inability  to  support 
the  character ;  yet  to  the  last  he  refused  to  quit  the 
pretension.  Now  we  admit,  in  a  certain  sense,  every 
one  of  these  propositions :  yet  maintain  that  they 
establish  no  point  whatsoever  against  the  perfect 
truth  and  sanctity  of  Christ.  This  statement  will 
cease  to  appear  paradoxical,  when  due  allowance  is 
made  for  the  vague  and  ambiguous  meaning  of  the 
word  "  Messiah"  It  is  needless  to  say,  that  this 
term  denotes  no  'real  object  in  rerum  natura,  but  a 
wholly  ideal  personage,  the  arbitrary  product  of  Jew- 
ish imagination.  As  in  all  such  cases  of  mental  cre- 
ation, the  attributes  assigned  to  him,  being  free 
from  all  restraint  of  fact,  were  exceedingly  numerous 
and  indeterminate,  —  involving  features  personal, 
political,  and  religious :  nor  was  the  type  so  rigor- 
ously fixed  as  not  to  yield,  with  adequate  pliancy,  to 
the  plastic  pressure  of  each  believer's  individual  tem- 
perament and  thought.  The  Messianic  character- 
istics needed  to  satisfy  the  compilers  of  the  first 
three  Gospels  were  different  from  those  demanded 
by  the  writer  of  the  fourth ;  and  yet  another  set  were 
requisite  for  Paul.  How  are  we  to  apply  a  concep- 
tion so  shifting  as  a  criterion  of  the  reality  of  a  di- 
vine mission,  and  of  the  sincerity  of  one  professing 


250  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

to  be  charged  with  it  ?  It  would  be  easy,  in  every 
imaginable  case,  to  find  out  attributes  in  the  national 
preconception,  which  would  be  missing  in  the  indi- 
vidual realization;  the  concrete  combination  of  all 
being  simply  impossible.  True  it  is,  that,  converse- 
ly, the  cases  were  proportionably  frequent  in  which 
some  features  were  sufficiently  present  to  allow  of 
plausible  pretensions  to  the  character.  But  this  only 
proves  how  unfit  is  an  ideal  image  like  this  to  serve 
as  a  test  of  spiritual  claims.  What  are  the  decisive 
marks  which  are  indispensable  to  the  assertor  of 
Messiahship?  Mr.  Newman  seeks  them  in  the  He- 
brew prophecies  which  furnished  the  first  lineaments 
of  the  conception:  and  protests  that  to  these  repre- 
sentations there  is  little  in  Jesus  which  truly  corre- 
sponds. But  does  he  forget  that,  in  trying  the  pre- 
tensions of  Isaiah  and  the  Hebrew  bards,  he  had  al- 
ready condemned  these  very  passages  as  empty  of 
all  prediction,  and  justifying  no  such  expectation  as 
was  afterwards  based  upon  them  ?  He  thus  with- 
draws the  national  ideal  from  the  Old  Testament; 
and  then  puts  it  in  again  for  the  refutation  of  the 
Christian  claims :  and  makes  it  a  charge  against  Je- 
sus, that  he  did  not  realize  certain  non-existent  proph- 
ecies. The  discrepancy  between  the  historical  pic- 
ture in  the  New  Testament  and  the  pseudo-prophet- 
ic in  the  Old,  might  reasonably  be  urged  by  a  Jew ; 
but  to  Mr.  Newman  it  should  rather  afford  an  evi- 
dence that  the  Evangelical  narrative  is  a  sketch  from 
the  life,  and  not  a  mythical  fancy-piece  imitated 
from  David  and  Isaiah.  No  doubt  Jesus,  by  the 
very  act  of  appealing  to  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  as- 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  251 

sumes  their  Messianic  import,  and  so  betrays  his 
participation  in  the  common  misconstruction  of  their 
meaning.  But  this  implies  no  more  than  such  falli- 
bility in  matters  of  intellectual  and  literary  estimate, 
as  every  theory  must  allow  which  leaves  to  the  in- 
spired prophet  any  human  faculties  at  all,  or  any 
means  of  contact  with  the  mind  of  his  age  and  na- 
tion. Inspiration  in  matters  of  textual  criticism  and 
exegesis  can  be  demanded  only  by  a  theology  be- 
neath contempt ;  and  least  of  all  by  our  author,  who 
so  widely  separates  the  functions  of  the  intellect  and 
the  soul,  and  protests  against  all  qualifying  of  spirit- 
ual perceptions  by  learned  judgments.  No  moral 
charge  is  established,  until  it  is  shown,  that,  in  ap- 
plying the  old  prophecies  to  himself,  Jesus  was  con- 
scious that  they  did  not  fit.  This,  however,  is  not 
shown  and  cannot  be  shown.  The  absence  in  him 
of  some  of  the  prophetic  lineaments  was  so  compen- 
sated by  the  intensity  of  others,  that  no  suspicion 
can  be  thrown  upon  the  purity  and  sincerity  of  his 
claim ;  especially  as  it  was  in  the  accidents  of  exter- 
nal power  that  he  was  wanting,  and  in  the  essence 
of  spiritual  light  that  he  abounded.  He  claimed  to 
be  "  Messiah,"  it  is  said ;  and  "  Messiah  he  was  not." 
True  ;  and  if  he  was  less  than  this,  we  can  reverence 
him  no  longer.  But  if  he  was  more,  only  could  find 
no  other  language  than  the  Messianic  in  which  to 
interpret  to  himself  and  others  the  feeling  of  his  Di- 
vine call,  then  was  the  national  formula  the  mere 
vehicle  furnished  by  history  for  an  essential  fact,  the 
modest  costume  disguising  a  divine  reality :  and  the 
only  error  in  the  account  which  Christ  gives  of  him- 


252  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

self  lies  in  its  affirming  far  less  than  the  truth.  In 
the  theocratic  faith  which  occupied  Palestine,  two 
distinct  elements  coexisted,  —  the  political  and  the 
religious :  the  former  promising  external  glories  ac- 
cording to  the  type,  but  transcending  the  limits,  of 
the  united  monarchy ;  the  latter  intent  upon  the  re- 
alization of  a  spiritual  Ideal,  including  the  restora- 
tion of  pure  worship  and  the  establishment  of  men 
in  a  saintly  fraternity  in*  immediate  communion 
with  Heaven.  As  the  first  of  these  elements  sup- 
plied natural  materials  to  the  ambition  and  vanity  of 
pretenders,  so  did  the  second  offer  a  receptacle  to 
which  the  holiest  mind  and  the  highest  inspiration 
would  not  shrink  from  resorting.  So  was  it,  as  we 
believe,  with  Christ.  The  political  functions  of 
Messiah  he  never  positively  denied,  or  absolutely 
cleared  out  from  his  mere  speculative  representa- 
tions of  the  future.  But  an  infallible  moral  percep- 
tion, and  affections  spiritually  preoccupied,  detained 
him  from  every  tendency  to  realize  them ;  made  him 
regard  their  practical  occurrence  to  his  mind  as  a  di- 
abolical Temptation ;  and  drove  him  into  mountain 
solitudes,  when  eager  multitudes  would  set  him  up 
for  king.  Whether,  according  to  the  account  in  the 
first  three  Gospels,  he  dealt  with  the  political  part  of 
the  Messianic  scheme,  when  it  obtruded  itself,  by 
putting  it  off  into  the  future ;  or  whether,  according 
to  John,  he  got  rid  of  it  by  melting1  it  absolutely  and 
immediately  away  in  the  spiritual ;  either  method  is 
so  true  to  the  instinct  of  a  mind  too  clear  and  holy 
to  touch  what  it  is  not  sceptical  enough  to  disbelieve, 
that  we  wonder  at  the  preference  shown  for  the  vul- 


PHASES    OF    FAITH. 


253 


gar  imputation,  — "  Depend  upon  it,  Jesus  would 
have  raised  an  army  if  he  could ;  and  only  talked 
about  religion,  because  there  was  nothing  else  that 
he  could  do." 

The  fact  to  which  we  have  adverted,  —  the  in- 
vestiture of  a  spiritual  mission  with  a  Messianic 
form,  —  explains  a  phenomenon  in  John's  Gospel  to 
which  Mr.  Newman  applies  (p.  146)  some  severe 
criticisms.  That  Gospel  betrays  great  vacillation  in 
its  estimate  of  the  logical  value  of  miracles :  repre- 
senting Christ  sometimes  as  reproving  the  demand 
for  a  miracle,  and  blessing  those  whose  faith  can 
dispense  with  such  support ;  sometimes  as  appealing 
to  miracle  as  a  just  basis  for  belief.  The  fact  of 
this  mixed  appeal  is  indisputable  :  and  to  us  it  seems 
in  every  way  suitable  to  the  mixed  character  sus- 
tained by  Jesus,  as  human  or  universal  prophet,  and 
as  national  Messiah.  The  miracles  to  which  he  ap- 
peals were  regarded  as  the  proper  signs  of  theocratic 
power ;  the  faith  without  miracle  was  the  just  de- 
mand he  made  on  the  spiritual  sympathies  of  good 
hearts.  They  were  severally  insisted  on  in  behalf 
of  different  positions :  the  one  to  prove  his  Jewish 
Messiahship  ;  the  other,  his  insight  into  Divine  things 
hidden  from  the  possible  apprehension  of  no  pure 
soul.  In  the  latter,  we  are  concerned  with  the  per- 
manent life  of  Christianity ;  in  the  former,  with  its 
mere  door  of  entrance  upon  the  theatre  of  human 
affairs. 

The  absence  of  this  distinction  appears  to  us  a 
frequent  cause  of  unconscious  unfairness  in  Mr. 
Newman's  strictures.  The  rules  of  estimate  which 
22 


. 

254  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

you  would  apply  to  a  philosophical  system  are  very 
different  from  those  by  which  you  appreciate  an  his- 
torical development :  —  in  the  one  case,  they  are  ab- 
solute, furnished  by  your  conceptions  of  what  is 
abstractedly  true  in  itself;  in  the  other,  they  are 
relative,  and  have  regard  to  actual  human  condi- 
tions, admitting  or  excluding  what  was  better  or 
worse.  In  a  philosophical  theory,  every  blemish  and 
omission  is  justly  held  to  detract  from  its  merits : 
but  in  an  historical  development,  such  imperfections 
may  be  due,  not  to  the  new,  but  to  the  old,  —  to  the 
irremovable  data  of  feeling  and  belief  which  the 
young  agency  finds  in  occupation  of  the  field  given 
for  its  work.  This  difference  is  not  annihilated, 
when  we  have  to  do  with  supernatural  instead  of 
natural  affairs.  Revelation  may  assume  the  form 
either  of  a  divine  philosophy,  professing  to  furnish 
unconditioned  truth ;  or  of  a  divine  influence  cast 
into  the  midst  of  the  world's  development,  and 
weaving  a  pattern  of  more  than  human  art  and 
beauty  into  the  texture  of  history.  It  is  in  the  for- 
mer aspect  that  our  author  contemplates  the  religion 
of  Christendom  ;  and  he  is  thus  led  to  charge  upon 
it  many  things  that  cannot  justly  be  laid  to  its  ac- 
count. Christianity,  as  presented  in  the  Scriptures, 
is  a  composite  fabric; — the  woof  of  Christ's  per- 
sonal spirit  thrown  across  the  warp  of  an  antecedent 
Judaism:  and  it  is  not  fairly  answerable  for  flaws 
and  stains  in  that  which  it  found  already  stretched 
upon  the  loom.  Thus,  when  Mr.  Newman  imputes 
to  the  New  Testament  the  doctrine,  that  God  pun- 
ishes men  "  for  holding  an  erroneous  creed"  (p.  168), 


_ 

PHASES    OF    FAITH.  255 

he  states  what  is  partially  true,  yet  leaves  on  the 
whole  an  impression  quite  false.  Such  a  sentiment 
is  entirely  foreign  to  the  religion  of  Christ,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  the  previous  Hebrew  theology :  and 
every  thing  which  resembles  it  is  an  uncancelled 
remnant  of  the  earlier  system.  From  the  very  na- 
ture of  the  case,  every  theocratic  scheme  is  neces- 
sarily exclusive.  The  Gospel,  born  within  the  limits 
of  such  doctrines,  could  not,  in  taking  all  their  grand- 
eur, escape  at  once  the  whole  of  their  severity.  But 
its  entire  tendency  was  to  destroy  the  previous  nar- 
rowness ;  and  to  throw  open,  as  well  as  purify,  the 
terms  of  communion  with  God.  For  exclusion  by 
race  and  other  arbitrary  external  disqualifications,  it 
substituted  exclusion  by  spiritual  condition  alone.  It 
may  be  said,  that  the  required  spiritual  condition  in- 
volved a  creed.  Even  this,  however,  though  unde- 
niably true,  is  not  a  characteristic  description  of  the 
fact.  It  was  reverence  for  a  Person,  not  reception 
of  Propositions,  which  constituted  the  Apostolic  test ; 
an  allegiance  of  soul  to  the  heavenly  Christ,  not  an 
affirmation  by  the  intellect  of  metaphysic  dogmas. 
And  may  it  not  be  reasonably  doubted  whether, 
under  the  then  condition  of  the  world,  any  other  test 
could  have  effected  a  truer  moral  partition  of  that 
portion  of  mankind  with  which  the  Apostles  came 
in  contact?  If  our  modern  doctrine  —  of  God's 
indifference  to  men's  creed  —  had  been  propagated 
in  an  age  when  creed  was  no  affair  of  conscientious 
private  judgment,  but  was  mixed  up  inseparably 
with  moral  and  social  causes,  and  if  the  Apostle  of 
the  Gentiles  had  preached  at  Ephesus  and  Corinth 


256  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

out  of  the  "  Essays  on  the  Formation  and  Publica- 
tion of  Opinions,"  how  would  the  Divine  crusade 
have  prospered  against  the  zealotry  of  Jerusalem  and 
the  idolatrous  corruptions  of  the  Roman  Empire? 
Paul,  avowedly  expecting  an  end  of  the  world,  pro- 
claimed a  divine  classification  of  mankind  in  regard 
to  that  great  catastrophe,  —  a  classification  involving 
probably  no  such  incorrect  moral  estimate  after  all. 
If,  by  an  absurd  Bibliolatry,  men  have  imported  a 
division,  similar  in  sound  but  not  in  sense,  into  a 
stage  of  the  world  and  conditions  of  human  charac- 
ter never  contemplated  by  him,  with  what  justice 
are  his  writings  made  answerable  for  the  folly  and 
narrow-heartedness  of  his  readers  ?  The  same  re- 
fusal to  take  any  account  of  historical  conditions 
influences  our  author's  judgment  as  to  the  doctrine 
of  demoniacal  possession.  That  this  superstition 
embodied  in  the  Scriptures  has  been  the  cause  of 
many  evils,  is  incontrovertible.  But  causes  anterior 
to  Christianity  created  the  superstition :  a  Bibliola- 
try, of  which  Christianity  is  independent,  prolonged 
it.  It  is  easy  to  expatiate  upon  the  mischiefs  of  this 
or  any  other  error  left  uneradicated  by  the  new  re- 
ligion ;  but,  unless  we  take  into  comparison  the  state 
in  which  the  case  had  been  before,  or  would  have 
been  without  Christianity,  we  shut  out  the  conditions 
of  all  rational  judgment.  For  ourselves  we  are  con- 
vinced that  the  Dualistic  belief  expressed  in  the  doc- 
trine of  possession  is  truer  and  more  favorable  to 
moral  progress  than  any  theory  of  unreduced  evil 
accessible  under  the  same  conditions  of  the  human 
intellect.  To  ask  for  the  religious  fruits  of  physical 


PHASES    OF   FAITH.  257 

science,  before  that  science  exists,  appears  to  us  in 
the  highest  degree  unreasonable. 

The  immense  extent  of  ground  traversed  by  our 
author's  Biblical  criticism  renders  it  impossible  for 
a  Reviewer  to  follow  him  in  detail.  We  would 
gladly  have  said  something  in  defence  of  the  Pauline 
logic,  and  the  peculiar  sources  of  the  Pauline  Gospel, 
as  well  as  in  correction  of  Mr.  Newman's  verdict 
respecting  the  fourth  Gospel,  —  a  verdict  which  ap- 
pears to  us  far  too  positive,  and  to  some  extent  rest- 
ing on  fanciful  grounds.  But  these  topics  cannot  be 
fairly  treated  without  a  minuteness  of  discussion  of 
which  our  readers  would  justly  complain  :  and  we 
confess  our  inability,  from  consciousness  of  the  real 
difficulties  attending  them,  to  deal  with  them  in  any 
very  confident  and  dogmatic  tone.  We  are  not  sure, 
however,  that  the  Apostolic  "  logic  "  which  our  author  ~ 
so  much  slights  was  not,  on  some  points,  sounder 
than  our  own ;  and  we  cannot  share  his  unqualified 
distrust  of  all  subjective  impressions  as  media  of 
revelation.  We  are  the  less  able  to  discuss  these 
questions  with  him,  because  we  cannot  make  a  con- 
sistent whole  of  his  own  logic  of  evidence  in  relation 
to  them.  He  distinctly  lays  it  down  (p.  152),  that 
"  it  is  in  the  spirit  alone  that  we  meet  God,  not  in 
the  communications  of  sense  " ;  yet  objects  to  Paul's 
oTroKaAvT/as,  that  we  know  not  whether  "  he  saw  or 
heard  a  sound  "  (p.  148),  and  that  "  he  learned  his 
Gospel  by  an  internal  revelation"  (p.  181).  He  ad- 
mits that  it  "  was  to  the  inward  senses  that  the  first 
preachers  of  Christianity  appealed,  as  the  supreme 
arbiters  in  the  whole  religious  question"  (p.  156)  ; 
22* 


258  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

and  that  "  all  evidence  for  Christianity  must  be 
moral  evidence  "  (p.  217) :  yet  his  complaint  is  al- 
ways of  the  want  of  external  guaranty.  If  all  the 
evidence  must  be  moral  and  spiritual,  then  all  mat- 
ters not  included  in  this  category  leave  the  evidence 
untouched :  and  the  religion  remains  unaffected  by 
the  errors  in  history,  geography,  construction  of  mir- 
acle, and  logic,  which  our  author  discerns  in  its  first 
records.  In  short,  the  proof  is  allowed  to  be  exclu- 
sively moral  and  spiritual :  yet  the  disproof  alleged 
is  historical,  scientific,  and  metaphysical. 

In  his  criticism  of  Doctrine,  Mr.  Newman  com- 
ments on  the  theory  of  Christianity,  to  which  we 
have  already  referred  with  approval,  viz.  that  the 
religion  is  embodied  in  the  Life  and  Spirit  of  Christ, 
who  is  a  perfect  man  and  the  moral  image  of  God. 
He  assigns  "  many  decisive  reasons "  why  it  was 
impossible  "  that  such  a  train  of  thought  could  rec- 
ommend itself  to  him  for  a  moment."  The  first  of 
these  reasons  is,  that  Religion  would  still  remain  a 
problem  of  literature;  for,  beautiful  as  the  picture 
of  Jesus  may  be,  how  but  by  a  refined  and  elaborate 
criticism  can  we  tell  whether  the  portrait  may  not 
be  imaginary  instead  of  real  ?  We  reply,  Religion 
may  fitly  remain  thus  far  a  problem  of  literature ; 
nor  is  it  apparent  how  we  are  ever,  except  through 
the  medium  of  preservative  records,  to  be  placed  in 
mental  contact  with  the  objects  of  just  reverence  that 
have  visited  our  world ;  yet  are  these  objects  the 
grand  agencies  for  the  devout  education  of  individ- 
uals and  nations.  So  long,  indeed,  as  it  is  asserted 
that  faith  in  Christ  is  the  condition  of  salvation  and 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  259 

the  essential  to  the  Divine  favor,  it  is  grossly  incon- 
sistent to  make  it  at  the  same  time  contingent  on  a 
trembling  balance  of  critical  evidence :  and  against 
the  exclusive  scheme  of  orthodox  churches,  this  ob- 
jection presses  with  irresistible  weight ;  for  there  the 
propositions  to  be  accepted  are  of  infinite  intricacy, 
and  the  results  of  mistake,  a  hopeless  and  eternal 
ruin.  But  in  the  theory  now  before  us,  the  burden 
of  consequences  is  reduced  to  the  ordinary  freight  of 
truth  and  error  ;  and  the  critical  problem  —  whether 
such  a  being  as  Jesus  Christ  really  lived,  and  was 
such  as  the  Gospels  and  Paul  represent  —  is  so  sim- 
ple, that  no  serious  uncertainty  can  be  pretended  in 
respect  to  it.  Mr.  Newman  appears  to  us  to  strain 
till  it  breaks  the  principle  that  religion  must  ask  for 
nothing  beyond  the  individual  spirit  of  the  ignorant 
human  being.  To  insist  that  it  shall  owe  nothing 
to  the  Past,  and  be  the  same  as  if  there  were  no  his- 
tory ;  to  demand  that  each  shall  find  it  for  himself 
de  novo,  as  if  he  were  the  first  man  and  the  only 
man ;  to  rely,  for  its  truth  or  its  progress,  on  its  per- 
petual personal  reproduction  in  isolated  minds,  —  is 
to  require  terms  which  the  nature  of  man  forbids  and 
the  Providence  of  God  will  disappoint.  Transmitted 
influence  from  soul  to  soul,  whether  among  contem- 
poraries, or  down  the  course  of  time,  is  not  only  as 
natural,  but  as  spiritual,  as  the  direct  relation  of  each 
worshipper  of  God.  Indeed,  traditional  faith  —  com- 
municated reverence  —  is  that  which  distinguishes 
the  nobler  religion  of  civilized  and  associated  nations 
from  the  egotism  of  Fetish  wqjphip  :  and  it  cannot 
be  that  a  tendency  which  only  a  few  lonely  minds 


260  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

are  capable  or  desirous  of  escaping,  is  without  any 
proper  function  in  the  world.  Nor  is  it  right  to 
judge  these  Unitarians  who  are  the  objects  of  Mr. 
Newman's  strictures  as  if  their  doctrine  were  "  new," 
as  if  they  went  back  on  a  general  excursion  through 
history,  and  fetched  up  thence,  by  their  private  se- 
lection, a  person  fit  to  be  the  moral  image  of  God. 
They  merely  attempt  to  state  the  essential  spirit  of 
a  ready-made  fact.  They  observe  a  past  and  pres- 
ent Christendom,  actually  worshipping  a  God  who 
is  the  glorified  resemblance  of  Christ.  They  have 
not  to  establish  the  habit,  and  make  good  the  whole 
series  of  antecedents  from  which  it  has  arisen  :  but, 
finding  it  in  possession  of  the  field,  to  make  a  just 
estimate  of  its  intrinsic  truth  and  excellence.  Look- 
ing at  it  thus,  they  simply  say,  "  This  is  good,  this 
is  the  truest  and  divinest  of  which  we  can  think ; 
the  moral  instinct  of  Christendom  is  right."  It  will 
be  time  enough  to  present  complaints  on  behalf  of 
the  poor  and  uneducated,  when  the  majesty  and 
sanctity  of  Christ's  mind  have  practically  become  as 
liable  to  doubt,  as  the  reality  of  some  of  the  miracles, 
and  the  authorship  of  some  of  the  books.  Mean- 
while, we  believe  the  intuitive  feeling  to  be  perfectly 
well  founded,  that  superhuman  goodness  cannot  be 
feigned  by  any  act  of  free  imagination  ;  and  to  be 
fully  justified  by  that  "  vast  moral  chasm  between 
the  Gospel  and  the  very  earliest  Christian  writers," 
which  left  upon  Mr.  Newman  himself  a  "  sense  of 
the  unapproachable  greatness  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment." And  after  all,  come  what  may  of  the  possi- 
bility of  critical  verification,  the  Divine  Image  fur- 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  261 

nished  by  the  life  of  Christ  is  now  secured  to  the 
soul  of  Christendom,  —  presides  in  secret  over  its 
moral  estimates,  directs  its  aspirations,  and  inspires 
its  worship.  In  proportion  as  this  educative  function 
of  historical  reverence  is  protracted  and  complete, 
does  it  become  of  less  moment  to  verify  its  sources 
in  detail.  The  eye,  once  couched  and  trained  to  the 
usages  of  vision,  does  not  relapse  into  the  dark, 
when  the  traces  are  lost  or  the  knowledge  is  wanting 
of  the  process  and  instrument  of  recovery.  And 
when  called  upon  to  quit  its  estimate  of  the  holiness 
of  Christ,  by  critics  who  say,  "  Give  God  the  praise ; 
we  know  that  this  man  is  a  sinner  "  ;  Christendom, 
like  the  disciple  blind  from  his  birth,  may  be  con- 
tent to  reply,  "  Whether  he  be  a  sinner  or  no,  I  know 
not :  one  thing  I  know,  that,  whereas  I  was  blind, 
now  I  see." 

To  the  form  of  Christianity  which  we  are  consid- 
ering, Mr.  Newman  further  objects  that  the  asserted 
perfectness  in  the  character  of  Christ  is  wholly  im- 
aginary; and,  if  he  were  physically  human,  intrinsi- 
cally incredible.  As  the  first  of  these  allegations  is 
simply  an  expression  of  the  author's  personal  dis- 
taste, and  is  not  otherwise  supported  than  by  the 
statement,  that,  for  his  part,  he  prefers  Fletcher  of 
Madeley  (himself,  we  presume,  a  disciple)  to  Jesus 
of  Nazareth,  it  admits  of  no  reply  beyond  an  expres- 
sion of  surprise  at  an  estimate  so  singular.  Even 
the  vagaries  of  Rousseau  led  him  to  no  such  eccen- 
tricity of  scepticism ;  and  amid  doubt  of  every  au- 
thoritative claim,  he  closed  the  Gospel  with  the 
acknowledgment  that  Jesus  "  lived  and  died  like  a 


262  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

God."  Certainly,  if  Dr.  Fletcher  of  Madeley  does 
really  appear  to  our  author  a  perfect  man,  he  must 
and  will  (whether  the  fact  be  recognized  or  not)  so 
far  assume  in  his  mind  the  function  of  Christ,  as  to 
furnish  the  richest  moral  elements  to  his  conception 
of  God.  But  for  ourselves  we  must  confess  a  diffi- 
culty —  unfelt  perhaps  by  Mr.  Newman,  but  com- 
mon to  all  dependent  minds  —  in  standing  quite 
alone  in  admiration,  and  trusting  our  absolutely  sol- 
itary perceptions,  as  we  should  those  in  which  thou- 
sands of  brethren  joined  with  us,  and  declared  the 
light  of  heavenly  beauty  to  lie  upon  the  very  spot 
which  it  paints  for  us.  The  established  power  of  a 
soul  over  multitudes  of  others,  —  its  historic  great- 
ness, —  its  productiveness,  through  season  after  sea- 
son of  this  world,  in  the  fruits  of  sanctity,  must  in- 
evitably enter  as  an  element  into  our  veneration : 
and  scarcely  do  we  dare,  by  free  homage  of  the 
heart,  to  own  the  trace  of  God  in  another's  life,  till 
we  find  our  comrades  in  sympathy  with  us.  Till 
then,  we  feel  as  though  we  might  be  magnifying  our 
idiosyncrasies,  and  throwing  over  the  universe  the 
speck  or  tint  of  our  own  eye.  Therefore  it  is  that 
no  private  person,  even  though  he  more  intensely 
stirs  the  distinctive  affections  of  our  narrow  individ- 
uality, can  ever  come  into  just  comparison  with 
Christ,  or  become  the  object  of  that  broad  and  trust- 
ful reverence  which  rather'  draws  the  soul  out  of  it- 
self, than  drives  it  more  closely  inward.  We  know 
there  must  be  a  limit  to  this  dependence ;  and  we 
honor  from  our  hearts  those  who,  from  clearness  of 
eye  and  courage  of  soul,  can  \>e  first  disciples  of  any 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  263 

prophet  of  God.  But  even  they  do  not  contemplate 
remaining  alone  ;  they  live  on  the  concurrence  of 
the  future,  though  not  of  the  present  and  the  past, 
and  attest  the  ideal  need  of  sympathy  to  faith.  Be- 
tween the  boldness  of  him  who  interprets  the  future 
exclusively  by  himself,  and  the  dependent  temper  of 
those  who  correct  and  confirm  themselves  by  refer- 
ence to  the  past,  we  will  not  attempt  to  adjust  the 
balance.  But  Fletcher  of  Madeley  does  not  tempt 
us  to  sever  ourselves  from  the  common  conscious- 
ness of  Christendom.  Mr.  Newman,  in  treating  of 
this  topic,  advances  a  logical  criticism  to  which  we 
can  by  no  means  subscribe :  — 

"  It  is  not  fair  to  ask  (as  some  whom  I  exceedingly  re- 
spect do  ask),  that  those  who  do  not  admit  Jesus  to  be  fault- 
less and  the  very  image  of  God,  will  specify  and  establish 
his  faults.  This  is  to  demand  that  we  will  presume  him  to 
be  perfect,  until  we  find  him  to  be  imperfect.  Such  a  pre- 
sumption is  natural  with  those  who  accept  him  as  an  angel- 
ic being;  absurd  in  one  who  regards  him  as  a  genuine  man, 
with  no  preternatural  origin  and  power.  If  by  sensible  and 
physical  proof  the  orthodox  can  show  that  he  is  God  incar- 
nate, it  will  be  reasonable  to  assume  that  he  is  a  perfect 
specimen  of  moral  excellence,  and  after  this  it  will  be  diffi- 
cult to  criticize.  But  when  sensible  proof  of  his  immacu- 
late conception  and  of  his  Godhead  is  allowed  not  to  exist, 
and  maintained  to  be  abstractedly  impossible,  I  have  no 
words  to  express  my  wonder  at  that  logic  which  starts  by 
acknowledging  and  establishing  his  simple  manhood,  pro- 
ceeds to  presume  his  absolute  moral  perfection,  throws  on 
others  the  task  of  disproving  the  presumption,  and  regards 
their  silence  as  a  verification  that  he  is  God  manifest  in  the 
flesh."  — p.  211. 


264  MARTINEAU'S   MISCELLANIES. 

In  spite  of  these  startling  expressions  of  wonder, 
we  must  persist  in  presuming  Jesus  to  be  perfect  till 
shown  to  be  imperfect.  We  derive  our  estimate  of  him. 
wholly  from  the  picture  presented  in  the  Gospels, — 
purified  certainly  by  some  critical  clearances,  defensi- 
ble by  canons  of  internal  evidence,  —  and  so  long  as 
this  picture  presents  no  moral  imperfections,  we  must 
decline  supplying  them  out  of  the  resources  of  fancy. 
In  presuming  Christ  to  be  perfect,  we  simply  refuse  to 
suppose  a  drawback  on  what  we  see  from  what  we 
do  not  see,  and  insist  on  forming  our  judgment  from 
the  known,  without  arbitrary  modification  from  the 
unknown.  No  doubt  Jesus,  as  a  being  open  to  temp- 
tation, was  intrinsically  capable  of  sin  :  but  this,  as 
a  set-off  against  the  positive  evidence  of  holiness, 
no  more  proves  actual  imperfection,  than  the  mere 
capacity  for  goodness  in  the  wicked  proves  their 
actual  perfection.  How  can  character  ever  be  esti- 
mated but  by  the  phenomena  through  which  it  ex- 
presses itself  in  the  life  ?  and  how  can  these  be  set 
aside  by  abstract  considerations  respecting  the  rank 
and  parentage  of  the  moral  agent?  According  to 
our  author,  we  are  to  distrust  our  own  moral  percep- 
tions, and  believe  apparent  beauty  to  be  real  deform- 
ity, until  a  physical  proof  of  Godhead  is  super- 
added  :  and  we  are,  in  this  instance,  to  contradict 
his  own  rule,  that  spiritual  discernment  requires  no 
voucher  from  external  miracle.  We  are  at  a  loss  to 
conceive  in  what  way  a  superhuman  physical  nature 
could  tend  in  the  least  degree  to  render  moral  per- 
fection more  credible.  The  classifications  of  Natu- 
ral History  are  not  to  be  obtruded  upon  Religion, 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  265 

and  gradations  of  excellence  to  be  merged  in  distinc- 
tions of  Species.  Christ  had  the  liability  to  sin,  not 
because  he  was  human,  but  because  he  was  free ; 
and  whatever  presumption  of  imperfection  arises 
hence,  would  have  arisen  no  less,  had  he  been  an 
angel  of  the  highest  rank.  All  souls  are  of  one  spe- 
cies :  or  rather  are  lifted  above  the  level  where  diver- 
sity of  species  prevails,  so  as  to  range,  not  with  Na- 
ture, but  with  God.  The  same  Laws,  the  same 
Love,  the  same  Will,  the  same  Worship,  pervade 
them  all,  and  make  them  of  one  clan ;  nor  is  there 
any  portion  of  the  series  whence  a  perfect  sanctity 
might  not  be  evolved  with  equal  possibility  and  with 
similar  result.  It  is  strange  that  Mr.  Newman 
should  stipulate  for  the  immaculate  conception,  as 
a  condition  of  believing  any  exalted  character  in 
Christ ;  and  should  forget  that  the  Gospel  which 
makes  him  diviner  than  all  the  rest  (that  of  John), 
knows  nothing  of  the  miraculous  birth,  and  teaches, 
apart  from  all  physical  conditions,  the  very  doctrine 
now  the  object  of  remark.  That  the  Apostle  Paul 
never  dwelt  on  the  earthly  life  of  Christ;  that  no 
relics,  no  holy  coats,  and  other  results  of  tender  and 
human  affection  for  an  historical  personage,  ap- 
peared in  the  first  age,  proves  no  more  than  that  the 
expectation  of  the  near  Advent  withdrew  the  mind 
of  the  early  Church  from  the  Past  to  the  Future, 
and  kindled  a  faith  too  dazzling  for  quiet  retrospec- 
tion. The  personal  object,  however,  though  placed 
in  the  imaginary  scene  before,  instead  of  among  the 
realities  behind,  was  still  the  same.  And  as  soon  as 
the  anticipation  of  his  reappearance  faded  away, 
23 


266  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  eye  of  the  Church,  unable  to  quit  the  image, 
changed  its  direction,  and  sought  him  where  alone 
he  was  to  be  found,  in  the  fields  of  Palestine  and  the 
courts  of  Jerusalem ;  and  thenceforth  enthusiastic 
hope  was  replaced  by  historic  reverence.  Indeed,  the 
stories  of  the  Birth  and  Infancy  with  which  two  of 
the  Gospels  open,  show  that  the  retrospective  atti- 
tude of  faith  had  already  been  assumed.  It  is  vain 
to  quote  Paul  against  this  view,  and  in  favor  of  an 
estimate  which  reduces  the  earthly  life  of  Jesus  to 
"commonplace."  If  to  him  the  Christ  above  was 
the  "  Ideal  of  glorified  human  nature,"  —  heavenly 
before  his  birth,  heavenly  after  his  death,  —  how,  in 
the  intermediate  ministry  on  earth,  could  Paul,  like 
Mr.  Newman,  suppose  him  quite  common  and  undi- 
vine  ?  If  the  history  of  that  ministry  failed  to  sup- 
port the  impression  of  the  Pauline  ideal,  how  could 
the  Apostle's  theory  escape  the  most  formidable  diffi- 
culties ?  It  was  the  same  Jesus  that  had  presented 
himself  in  both  spheres  :  and  the  unity  of  the  charac- 
ter must  be  preserved  by  those  whose  veneration  is 
directed  towards  him  in  either.  Paul's  imagination 
descended  from  Christ  in  heaven  to  Christ  on  earth ; 
ours  ascends  from  Christ  on  earth  to  Christ  in  heaven ; 
and  ends  with  enthroning  him  where  Paul  first  knew 
him.  Whichever  path  of  transition  be  taken,  the 
moral  conception  of  the  Person  must  be  the  same ; 
having  on  him  the  traces  of  that  ideal  perfectness  in 
the  faith  of  which  both  theories  terminate.  The  ac- 
ceptance of  Christ,  therefore,  as  the  moral  image  of 
God,  appears  to  us  to  be  strictly  involved  in  the 
Pauline  Gospel,  and  to  be  quite  as  compatible  with 
a  human  as  with  an  angelic  rank. 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  267 

Mr.  Newman  objects  in  conclusion  against  this 
version  of  Christianity,  that  it  attempts  to  combine 
incompatible  conditions,  —  to  save  free  Criticism 
without  sacrificing  Authority :  and  that  there  is 
"  something  intensely  absurd  in  accepting  Jesus  as 
the  Messiah,  and  refusing  to  acknowledge  him  as 
the  authoritative  teacher,  to  whose  wisdom  we  must 
pay  perpetual,  unlimited,  unhesitating  homage" 
(p.  212).  Now  we  fully  concur  with  our  author  in 
rejecting  all  notion  of  an  absolute  oracle,  to  whose 
dicta  we  are  submissively  to  bow :  nor  do  we  know 
of  any  general  proposition  which  we  should  think  it 
right  to  accept  merely  on  the  word  of  Jesus.  We 
further  allow,  that  this  withdrawal  from  him  of  the 
oracular  function  probably  is  at  variance  with  the 
Jewish  conception  of  Messiah's  office.  But  we  deny 
that  it  is  at  variance  with  the  Christian  conception 
of  a  moral  type  of  Divine  Perfectness.  The  most 
faultless  administration  of  life,  the  most  saintly  com- 
munion with  God,  the  divinest  symmetry  of  soul, 
may  surely  coexist  with  limited  knowledge :  and  sin- 
lessness  of  Conscience  does  not  require  Omniscience 
in  the  Understanding.  To  be  no  great  scholar  in 
Chaldee,  and  ill-read  in  the  Court-annals  of  the  Se- 
leucidse,  and  consequently  make  mistakes  about  the 
book  of  Daniel,  and  not  see  what  is  invisible  in  the 
destinies  of  the  Roman  empire,  —  how  does  this 
hinder  the  exercise  of  pure  affection  and  the  life  of 
holy  faithfulness  ?  Goodness  is  qualitative  ;  knowl- 
edge is  quantitative :  and  throughout  every  variety 
in  the  quantity,  immaculateness  is  possible  in  the 
quality.  In  the  power  natural  to  the  higher  soul 


268  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

over  the  lower,  in  the  silent  appeal  which  the  beauty 
of  its  holiness  makes  to  the  struggling  and  feeble 
will,  there  is  indeed  an  exercise  of  authority,  and  of 
the  only  kind  that  is  ultimately  possible :  but  it  in- 
volves no  intellectual  dictation,  and  is  indeed  consist- 
ent with  none :  it  gives  not  a  true  proposition  to  our 
assent,  but  a  divine  object  to  our  perception:  and 
while  the  moral  and  spiritual  intuition  are  reverently 
engaged  upon  the  person,  leaves  the  logical  under- 
standing free  play  among  all  ideas.  Mr.  Newman 
is  fond  of  drawing  the  distinction  between  the  spirit- 
ual and  the  intellectual  in  the  case  of  ordinary  men. 
No  one  demonstrates  more  convincingly  the  indepen- 
dence of  religious  insight  on  all  conclusions  of  the 
scientific  judgment  and  states  of  objective  knowl- 
edge ;  protests  more  strongly  against  every  demand 
of  right  belief  in  matters  external  as  a  test  of  near- 
ness to  God ;  or  better  shows  the  open  communion 
of  the  Father  of  Lights  with  his  children  in  propor- 
tion to  their  purity  of  heart,  irrespective  of  the  cul- 
ture and  correctness  of  the  mind.  Why  is  this  to  be 
true  of  the  disciples,  and  false  of  the  Master  ?  With 
what  consistency  is  the  Spirit  of  God  made  indif- 
ferent to  intellectual  conditions  in  the  one  case,  yet 
tested  by  infallibility  in  the  other?  Our  author  has 
only  to  extend  to  the  Founder  the  conception  of  in- 
spiration on  which  he  insists  in  the  Church ;  and  he 
obtains  the  completest  answer  to  his  own  demand 
for  an  oracular  Christ. 

The  reaction  of  our  author's  mind  against  his 
early  belief  does  not  affect  merely  his  views  of  the 
sources  of  Christianity.  He  criticizes  also  its  history ; 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  269 

and  denies  its  beneficent  agency,  even  in  directions 
wherein  it  has  hitherto  been  regarded  as  scarcely 
open  to  challenge.  It  has  done  nothing,  he  thinks, 
to  improve  the  condition  of  the  woman  or  the  slave : 
its  spread,  no  less  than  that  of  Mohammedanism,  has 
been  the  work  of  the  sword :  and  it  has  rather  re- 
stricted, than  produced,  the  benefits  of  the  Reforma- 
tion. Nothing  in  this  volume  has  so  much  amazed 
us  as  the  disproportion  between  the  magnitude  of 
these  propositions  and  the  slenderness  of  the  grounds 
on  which  they  are  made  to  rest.  First,  as  to  the  con- 
dition of  women  ;  he  urges,  that  "  the  real  elevators 
of  the  female  sex  are  the  poets  of  Germanic  culture, 
who  have  vindicated  the  spirituality  of  love  and  its 
attraction  to  character "  (p.  165) ;  that  the  Apostle 
Paul,  far  from  reaching  any  such  sentiment,  discour- 
ages marriage,  except  as  a  means  of  escaping  the 
temptations  of  passion;  and  that  in  the  South  of 
Europe,  where  Germanic  feeling  has  taken  no  root, 
the  relative  position  of  the  sexes  is  not  improved. 
In  relation  to  this  question,  as  to  many  others,  we 
protest  against  the  identification  with  Christianity 
itself  of  the  personal  views  of  this  or  that  Apostle : 
we  are  not  to  seek  in  the  crude  germ  of  the  religion 
for  that  which  belongs  to  its  full  and  developed  fruit. 
It  is  enough  (and  this  surely  is  incontrovertible)  that 
Paul's  doctrine  on  this  subject  was  a  vast  improve- 
ment on  the  Gentile  morality  which  it  replaced  ;  that 
the  rules  which  he  imposed  on  the  administrators 
and  members  of  Christian  communities  were  the 
only  ones  which  could  give  scope  for  the  spontane- 
ous growth  of  the  best  sentiments;  and  that  his 
23* 


270  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

treatment  of  the  case,  having  exclusive  reference  to 
the  end  of  the  world  supposed  to  be  imminent,  was 
never  intended  to  serve  for  all  time,  and  owed  to  its 
provisional  purpose  whatever  is  questionable  in  it. 
And  after  all,  unjust  as  it  is  to  measure  the  ultimate 
tendency  of  an  historical  influence  by  its  incipient 
phenomena,  there  does  appear  to  us  a  manifest  trace, 
in  the  first  age  itself,  of  an  ennobling  influence  from 
the  recognized  spiritual  equality  of  the  sexes.  The 
women  of  Galilee  and  the  sisters  of  Bethany,  the 
helpers  of  Paul  in  Macedonia  and  Corinth,  the  mar- 
tyred deaconesses  of  Lyons  and  Carthage,  were 
surely  lifted  by  their  faith  into  a  consciousness  of  the 
claims  of  the  soul,  to  which  nothing  in  Pagan  antiq- 
uity can  present  a  moral  parallel.  We  have  no  de- 
sire to  derogate  from  the  just  merits  of  German  sen- 
timent ;  or  to  establish  any  competition  of  pretension 
between  its  influence  and  that  of  Christianity.  But 
is  it  too  much  to  say  that,  for  the  production  of  their 
beneficent  results,  the  two  agencies  had  to  concur; 
and  that  if,  on  the  one  hand,  the  religion  was  com- 
paratively barren  till  it  struck  upon  the  German  soul, 
so,  on  the  other,  that  soul  had  but  the  latent  capacity 
for  nobler  development  till  quickened  by  reception 
of  the  religion  ?  We  certainly  believe  that  the  chief 
function  of  the  first  eight  centuries  of  the  Church  was 
to  hand  over  the  religion  to  its  proper  receptacle  in  the 
Teutonic  mind,  —  there  for  the  first  time  to  exhibit 
on  a  large  scale  its  native  vitality  and  find  its  ap- 
pointed nourishment.  Still,  if  we  remember  right, 
the  chivalric  poetry  arose,  not  in  the  Germanic  race, 
but  among  the  Romanesque  tribes  of  Spain,  France, 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  271 

and  Italy ;  and  flourished  most  where  the  Albigen- 
sian  spirit  had  freest  way  and  the  power  of  the  priest- 
hood was  most  weakened.  Sismondi  remarks  the  co- 
incidence, in  the  Romance  literature,  of  an  elevated 
sentiment  towards  woman,  with  bitter  satire  upon 
the  clergy  :  and  we  apprehend  it  was  a  true  instinct 
which  led  the  poet,  inspired  with  any  delicate  and 
noble  love,  to  turn  his  antipathies  upon  the  sacerdo- 
tal system.  That  system  it  is  which  to  this  day  pre- 
vents the  sanctity  and  lowers  the  dignity  of  domes- 
tic life  in  the  South  of  Europe ;  and  makes  the  dif- 
ference between  the  love  which  figures  in  an  Italian 
opera,  and  that  which  breathes  in  the  strains  of  Ten- 
nyson. It  cannot  be  pretended  that  the  Papal  and 
priestly  institutions,  at  whose  door  the  evil  is  to  be 
laid,  afford  any  true  representation  of  the  religion  of 
Christ.  Wherever  the  characteristic  sentiments  of 
Christianity  have  had  free  action,  wherever  the  faith 
has  prevailed  that  life  is  a  divine  trust,  committed  to 
souls  dear  to  God,  equal  among  themselves,  and 
each  the  germ  of  an  immortality,  there,  and  there 
alone,  has  domestic  affection  been  so  touched  with 
reverence  and  confidence,  as  to  retain  its  freshness 
to  the  end,  and  afford  a  chastening  discipline  through 
life.  The  doctrines  about  the  "  Rights  of  Woman," 
which  have  sprung  from  theories  of  political  equality, 
and  disowned  the  partnership  of  religious  sentiment, 
have  invariably  produced  great  moral  laxity :  and,  in 
spite  of  high  imaginative  talk,  fascinating  to  excita- 
ble natures,  yield  nothing  truly  noble,  but  only  the 
monster  greatness  of  mingled  intellect  and  passion. 
The  man  and  the  woman  can  never  learn  each 


272  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

other's  infinite  worth,  except  in  the  absence  of  the 
priest,  and  in  the  presence  of  their  God.  Who  can 
deny  that  this  secret  has  been  learned  among  the  les- 
sons of  a  Christian  civilization  ? 

The  credit  assigned  to  Christianity  as  the  foe  of 
slavery  is  also,  in  our  author's  opinion,  unmerited. 
No  Apostle  denounces  the  system ;  which  receives 
indeed  a  sort  of  sanction  from  the  silence  of  the  New 
Testament  respecting  it,  and  from  Paul's  act  of  send- 
ing back  Onesimus  to  his  master  Philemon.  Good 
Pagan  Emperors  of  Rome  softened  the  rigors  of 
slavery,  but  during  the  several  centuries  in  which 
Christianity  acted  in  the  empire,  it  produced  no  op- 
position to  the  system.  In  modern  times,  serfdom 
was  abolished  by  the  kings  in  their  desire  to  raise 
the  chartered  cities  as  an  arm  against  the  barons. 
And  black  slavery  received  its  first  act  of  abolition 
from  atheistic  France ;  its  next  from  England,  im- 
pelled by  that  one  among  her  sects  which  least  re- 
gards the  letter  of  Scripture. 

This  style  of  criticism  is  so  evidently  founded  on 
the  conception  of  Christianity  as  an  oracular  system, 
bound  to  pronounce  distinctly  on  all  considerable 
matters,  human  or  divine,  that,  in  simply  treating 
the  religion  as  an  historical  development  through  the 
influence  of  reverence  for  a  person,  we  have  already 
suggested  the  reply.  The  operation  of  such  a  cause 
was  necessarily  gradual,  and  could  not  produce  the 
sudden  and  general  protests  demanded  by  Mr.  New- 
man. Its  action  was  not  through  any  revealed  econ- 
omy of  social  life,  but  through  the  introduction  of 
men,  one  by  one,  into  spiritual  relations  incompati- 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  273 

ble  with  the  sentiments  of  the  slave.  That  Chris- 
tianity opened  its  arms  to  the  servile  class  at  all,  was 
enough  :  for  in  its  embrace  was  the  sure  promise  of 
emancipation.  In  proof  of  this  we  need  no  other 
witness  than  our  author  himself,  who  says :  — 

"  Zeal  for  the  liberation  of  serfs  in  Europe  first  rose  in 
the  breasts  of  the  clergy,  after  the  whole  population  had  be- 
come nominally  Christian.  It  was  not  men,  but  Christians, 
that  the  clergy  of  the  Middle  Ages  desired  to  make  free." 

—  p.  167. 

What  more  emphatic  expression  could  the  religion 
give  of  its  hostility  to  slavery  than  this,  that  all  men 
were  to  become  Christians,  and  that  no  Christian 
should  remain  a  slave  ?  Is  it  imputed  as  a  disgrace, 
that  it  put  conversion  before  manumission,  and 
brought  them  to  God,  ere  it  trusted  them  with  them- 
selves ?  To  our  mind  this  is  the  true  and  divine  or- 
der, —  a  new  life  within  to  rule  the  new  lot  without, 

—  Conscience,  Lord  of  the  Soul,  invoked  to  succeed 
the  feudal  lord  of  the  soil.     If  Christianity  were  pa- 
tient of  Heathenism,  if  it  had  no  generous  propa- 
gandism,  it  might  be  charged  with  narrowness  in 
only  redeeming  its  own.     But  its  Missionary  spirit 
forbade  its  ever  providing  itself  with  slaves  from  the 
Pagan  class,  while  its  own  children  had  their  liberty. 
It  created  the  simultaneous  obligation  to  make  the 
Pagan  a  convert,  and  the  convert  free.     That  this 
tendency  exhibited  but  faint  traces  in  the  earliest 
age  of  the  Church  is  due,  not  merely  to  the  small 
comparative  numbers  of  the  disciples,  but  no  less  to 
their   expectation   of    an  immediate   close   to   this 


274  MAUTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

world's  affairs.  The  only  reason  why  Paul  sanc- 
tioned contentment  with  his  condition  in  the  con- 
verted slave  was,  that,  for  so  short  a  time,  it  was  not 
worth  while  for  any  man  to  change  his  state ;  he 
that  was  free  was  already  the  Lord's  bondsman  ; 
and  he  that  was  bound,  the  Lord's  freeman.  In  pro- 
portion as  this  anticipation  retreated,  society  began 
to  feel  the  tendency  of  the  new  religion.  Doubtless 
the  condition  of  the  servile  class  was  ameliorated  by 
the  legislation  of  good  Pagan  emperors  :  and  not  on- 
ly the  precepts  of  Seneca,  but  the  edicts  of  Hadrian, 
Trajan,  and  Antoninus  attest  the  growth  of  just  and 
humane  sentiments.  But  the  steady  agency  of 
Christianity  availed  incomparably  more  than  the 
happy  accident  of  wisdom  and  virtue  in  a  prince. 
All  its  ordinances  were  open  indiscriminately  to 
bond  and  free ;  nor  was  servile  birth  any  disqualifi- 
cation for  the  discharge  of  Church  functions,  —  from 
the  humble  office  of  the  two  slave-girls  mentioned  in 
Pliny's  letter  to  Trajan,  to  the  dignity  of  the  Episco- 
pate itself.  This  rule  stands  in  strong  contrast  with 
the  Roman  law,  according  to  which  no  public  office 
could  be  held  by  a  slave.  The  exercise  of  the  sacred 
duties  suspended  the  rights  of  the  master,  and  in 
case  of  the  permanent  assumption  of  the  monastic 
habit,  or  the  appointment  to  a  bishopric,  entirely 
abolished  them.  The  Christian  indissolubility  of 
marriage  seriously  curtailed  the  owner's  established 
rights,  though  it  was  long  before  it  openly  took  the 
legal  place  of  the  previous  contubernia.  The  influ- 
ence of  the  Church  was  vigorously  exerted  against 
the  barbarous  treatment  of  the  servile  class:  and 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  275 

Clement  of  Alexandria  enjoins  the  bishop  to  reject 
the  offerings  of  masters,  "  qui  fame,  verberibus,  acer- 
bo  dominatu,  familiam  suam  vexarent."  And  when 
an  ill-used  slave  fled  from  the  persecution  of  his  own- 
er to  a  Christian  altar,  he  found  a  powerful  protec- 
tion in  the  officiating  ecclesiastics ;  who  were  bound 
to  intercede  actively  on  his  behalf,  and,  failing  of 
success,  to  permit  to  him  the  usual  shelter  of  the 
sanctuary.  Constantine  was  the  first  to  enact  laws 
against  separating  the  members  of  the  same  servile 
family ;  justifying  his  edict  by  the  words,  "  Quis 
enim  ferat  liberos  a  parentibus,  a  fratribus  uxores,  a 
viris  conjuges  segregari  ?  "  Mr.  Newman  mentions, 
among  the  horrors  of  Roman  slavery,  that  "  young 
women  of  beautiful  persons  were  sold  as  articles  of 
voluptuousness  "  :  but  he  does  not  mention  that  the 
first  Christian  Emperors  authorized  the  clergy  to  re- 
deem from  the  Lupanaria  the  wretched  victims  who 
had  there  suffered  the  fate  of  St.  Agnes ;  or  that,  by 
a  law  of  Theodoric,  the  seducer  of  a  slave  girl  was 
not  only  bound  to  her  thenceforth,  but  subjected  for 
life  to  her  master's  service.  An  indication  of  the  di- 
rection which  was  assumed  by  the  sympathies  of  the 
new  religion  is  afforded  by  the  fact,  that,  from  the 
time  of  Constantine,  the  process  of  manumission 
was  for  the  most  part  transferred  to  the  Church,  and 
formed  part  of  the  ceremonies  at  Easter,  and  the 
other  ecclesiastical  festivals.  And  under  the  auspi- 
ces of  Christian  Emperors,  the  facilities  for  manu- 
mission were  so  greatly  increased,  that,  after  the  im- 
pediments removed  by  Justinian,  freedom  became 
the  rule,  and  slavery  the  exception,  among  the  poor- 


276  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

er  subjects  of  the  empire.*  So  clear,  indeed,  is  the 
tendency  of  Christianity  on  this  matter,  that  if  our 
author  had  made  his  attack  from  the  opposite  side, 
and  contended  that  its  doctrines  proved  too  much 
against  servitude,  and  assumed  with  too  little  quali- 
fication the  capacity  of  each  man  for  self-rule,  we 
should  have  felt  more  hesitation  in  expressing  our 
dissent.  We  certainly  feel  that  the  religious  im- 
pulse under  which,  in  Christian  times,  every  assault 
upon  slavery  has  been  conducted,  requires  for  its 
wise  and  efficient  operation  a  larger  admixture  of 
worldly  moderation  and  economical  forethought, 
than  zeal  and  generosity  are  willing  to  allow. 

But  few  words  will  be  needful  in  reference  to  our 
author's  theory  of  the  Reformation.  In  his  view, 
this  great  event  is  due,  not  to  the  Bible,  but  to  Free 
Learning,  especially  to  the  moral  works  of  Cicero 
and  Boethius,  which  "  effected  what  (strange  to 
think)  the  New  Testament  could  not  do "  (p.  158). 
He  inclines  to  think  that  the  change  would  have 
been  better  brought  about,  if  Luther  had  never  lived ; 
and,  while  crediting  the  Pagan  writers  with  the  re- 
covery of  Europe,  convicts  the  Scriptures  of  ineffi- 

*  See  Plin.  Traj.  Imp.  Lib.  x.  ep.  97.  Justinian's  Novella,  cxxiii. 
4.  v.  2.  Clem.  Alex,  const,  apost.  iv.  Cod.  Theodos.  ii.  tit.  25.  Gib- 
bon, Ch.  44,  and  Blair's  Inq.  into  the  State  of  Slavery  amongst  the 
Romans, passim ;  especially  pp.  127,  168-174;  and  247,  where  it  is 
shown  that  "  St  Paul  would,  under  any  circumstances,  have  had  no 
choice,  but  to  send  Onesimus  to  his  master.  The  detention  of  a  fugi- 
tive slave  was  considered  the  same  offence  as  a  theft,  and  would,  no 
doubt,  infer  liability  to  prosecution  for  damages,  under  that  head,  or 
under  the  rules  with  regard  to  corrupting  slaves,  —  or  the  Aquilian  law, 
respecting  reparation  of  injury  done." 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  277 

,  ciency,  for  not  having  prevented  its  previous  lapse 
into  barbarism  and  superstition. 

The  Reformation  arose,  not  from  the  Bible,  but 
from  Free  Learning !  This  appears  to  us  like  say- 
ing that  the  harvest  comes,  not  from  the  seed-corn, 
but  from  good  farming ;  or  that  the  ship  makes  its 
voyage,  not  by  the  wind,  but  by  navigation.  Would 
our  author  have  had  the  Bible  produce  the  Reforma- 
tion without  Free  Learning,  —  that  is,  without  being 
applied  to  the  European  mind  at  all  ?  If  not,  what  is 
the  meaning  of  this  false  antithesis  between  the  state 
of  the  human  faculties  and  the  object  on  which  they 
are  employed  ?  and  of  the  strange  exaction  that  the 
Scriptures,  once  put  on  parchment,  should  be  able, 
whether  men  could  procure  and  read  them  or  not, 
to  overrule  all  the  causes  of  internal  corruption  and 
external  ruin,  beneath  which  the  Roman  civilization 
succumbed  ?  A  ".  self-sustaining  power  "  like  this,  a 
power  to  remain  independent  of  perturbation  from 
foreign  influences,  and  to  evolve  like  phenomena 
from  the  most  unlike  conditions  of  the  human 
mind,  is  intrinsically  inconceivable.  Be  a  religion 
ever  so  divine,  from  the  moment  that  it  is  con- 
signed to  human  media  and  delivered  to  the  keeping 
of  mankind,  it  inevitably  shares  the  fate  of  all  the 
intellectual  and  spiritual  possessions  of  our  race,  and 
rises  and  sinks  with  the  tides  of  history.  If  our 
author's  favorites,  —  the  Latin  moralists,  —  accom- 
plished at  the  revival  of  learning  what  the  Scriptures 
could  not  do,  they  availed  as  little  as  the  Scriptures 
to  prevent  its  previous  decline ;  and  when  Europe 
"  sank  into  the  gulf  of  Popery,"  she  had  Cicero  and 
24 


278  MARTINEAU'S   MISCELLANIES. 

Boethius,  no  less  than  "the  Bible  in  her  hands."- 
But  "  without  free  intellect,"  as  Mr.  Newman  truly 
observes  of  the  ancient  Attic  literature  in  the  hands 
of  the  Greeks  of  Constantinople,  "  the  works  of  their 
fathers  did  their  souls  no  good":  and  is  not  the  plea 
equally  valid,  that,  without  free  intellect,  the  works 
of  evangelists  and  apostles  could  do  the  souls  of 
disciples  no  good?  No  Protestant  ever  disputed  the 
need  of  Free  Learning  as  an  essential  condition  of 
the  Reformation  :  and  the  only  question  is,  whether 
the  modern  changes  in  the  religion  of  Christendom 
arose  from  the  free  study  of  the  Scriptures,  or  from 
the  free  study  of  the  Pagan  writers  ?  It  is  difficult 
to  discuss  such  a  question  with  gravity.  If  our 
author  really  thinks  that  the  Huguenots  derived 
their  inspiration  from  Seneca  and  the  Puritans  from 
Cicero;  if  he  imagines  Marcus  Antoninus  in  the 
pocket  of  the  Brownists,  and  Epietetus  beneath  the 
pillow  of  John  Knox,  he  entertains  a  conception  of 
modern  history  more  peculiar  than  that  of  the  Angli- 
can theologians  themselves.  We  had  always  imag- 
ined, that,  from  the  time  of  Petrarch,  the  ancient 
literature  was  nowhere  more  assiduously  studied 
than  in  Italy;  which,  nevertheless,  witnessed  no 
"  improvement  of  spiritual  doctrine,"  and  was  not  as- 
suming, under  the  patronage  of  the  Medicis  and  the 
Papacy  of  Leo,  a  course  of  development  very  prom- 
ising for  religious  truth  and  moral  earnestness.  The 
assertion  that  the  Reformation  would  have  been 
more  beneficent,  had  the  Reformers  never  lived,  be- 
longs to  a  kind  of  speculation  which  appears  to  us 
fruitful  in  delusion.  That  concurrently  with  the  rise 


PHASES    OF    FAITH.  279 

of  those  great  leaders  there  existed  a  general  ferment 
of  mind  in  Europe  favorable  to  their  influence,  is  un- 
deniable ;  that,  if  they  had  not  appeared,  this  condi- 
tion would  have  manifested  itself  in  some  direction, 
drawing  into  it  many  of  the  energies  which  they  be- 
spoke, we  have  no  doubt ;  but  that  this  substituted 
phenomenon  would  have  been  "  the  Reformation," 
analogous  in  its  characteristics  and  equivalent  in  its 
merits,  is  a  proposition  beyond  the  reach  of  human 
evidence,  belonging  to  the  computation  of  contin- 
gents, the  scientia  media  of  Molina's  God.  It  is  as 
little  possible  to  conceive  of  the  Reformation  with- 
out Luther,  as  to  imagine  an  Evangelicism  without 
Paul,  or  even  a  Christianity  without  Christ. 

A  few  topics  in  this  volume  we  must  leave  un- 
touched ;  an  omission  which  will  be  more  readily 
excused,  we  fear,  than  the  handling  of  so  many.  In 
parting  from  it,  we  restate  our  conviction  that  Mr. 
Newman  exaggerates  the  resources  of  the  purely 
subjective  side  of  Religion,  and  undervalues  its  ob- 
jective conditions.  A  spirit  like  his  own  may  doubt- 
less draw,  from  the  mere  depth  of  its  inner  experi- 
ence, a  faith  and  trust  adequate  to  the  noble  gover- 
nance of  life.  But  just  as  the  Intellect  of  mere  meta- 
physicians, spinning  assiduously  from  its  own  centre 
without  fixed  points  of  attachment  for  its  threads,  pro- 
duces as  many  tissues  of  thought  as  there  are  orig- 
inal thinkers ;  so  the  Soul  of  mere  spiritualists,  in 
attempting  to  evolve  every  thing  from  within  without 
any  datum  of  historical  reverence,  must  create  as 
many  religions  as  there  are  worshippers.  As  we 
have  faith  in  a  Common  Reason,  so  have  we  in  a 


280  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

Common  Conscience,  of  mankind ;  the  eye,  in  the 
one  case  of  natural,  in  the  other  of  divine  truth  :  but 
liable,  in  both  instances,  to  the  same  law,  —  that 
objects  not  ideal  but  real  be  given  for  perception  and 
appreciation  ;  objects,  not  different  for  each  observer, 
but  large  and  conspicuous  enough  to  fix  simultane- 
ously the  universal  vision.  The  grand  objects  of  the 
physical  universe,  discernible  from  every  latitude, 
look  in  at  the  understanding  of  all  nations,  and  secure 
the  unity  of  Science.  And  the  glorious  persons  of 
human  history,  imperishable  from  the  traditions  of 
every  civilized  people,  keeping  their  sublime  glance 
upon  the  Conscience  of  ages,  create  the  unity  of 
Faith.  And  if  it  hath  pleased  God  the  Creator  to 
fit  up  one  system  with  one  Sun,  to  make  the  day- 
light of  several  worlds ;  so  may  it  fitly  have  pleased 
God  the  Revealer  to  kindle  amid  the  ecliptic  of  his- 
tory One  Divine  Soul,  to  glorify  whatever  lies  with- 
in the  great  year  of  his  moral  Providence,  and  repre- 
sent the  Father  of  Lights.  The  exhibition  of  Christ 
as  his  Moral  Image  has  maintained  in  the  souls  of 
men  a  common  spiritual  type  to  correct  the  aberra- 
tions of  their  individuality,  to  unite  the  humblest  and 
the  highest,  to  merge  all  minds  into  one  family,  — 
and  that,  the  family  of  God. 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.* 

[From  the  Westminster  Keview  for  April,  1850.] 

WE  have  often  wondered  that  the  English,  the 
most  sensible,  but  the  most  illogical  of  nations,  should 
endure  so  patiently  the  intricacies  and  uncertainties 
of  their  law.  That  the  careless  and  acute  Athenian 
should  frequent  his  city's  courts,  with  keen  relish  for 
the  subtlest  pleadings  by  which  sophistry  could  en- 
tangle justice,  is  in  keeping  with  the  characteristics 
of  his  vivacious  and  intellectual  race.  But  the  do- 
cile attention  with  which  an  English  grazier  or  tea- 
dealer,  apter  to  deal  with  things  than  with  words, 
will  listen  to  long  arguments  on  forms  of  evidence 
and  points  of  law,  content  no  less  to  let  the  decision 

*  1.  The  Church,  the  Crown,  and  the  Stater  their  Junction  or  their 
Separation  ;  considered  in  Two  Sermons  bearing  reference  to  the  Ju- 
dicial Committee  of  the  Privy  Council.  By  the  Kev.  W.  J.  E.  Bennett, 
M.  A.,  Perpetual  Curate  of  St.  Paul's,  Knightsbridge.  Third  Edition. 
London.  1850.  » 

2.  Lives  of  the  English  Saints.    London.     1844,  1845,  &c. 

3.  The  Temporalities  of  the  Established  Church,  as  they  are,  and 
as  they  might  be.    By  William  Beeston,  an  old  Churchman.    Lon- 
don.    1850. 

4.  Religion,  the  Church,  and  the  People  ;  a  Sermon.    By  J.  Hamil- 
ton Thorn.    London.     1849. 

24* 


282  MARTINEAU'S  MISCELLANIES. 

go  by  flaw  than  if  taken  on  the  merits,  is  a  truly 
singular  phenomenon.  The  man  has  no  taste  for 
verbal  gymnastics ;  and  fine  distinctions,  if  he  can 
see  them  at  all,  give  him  the  headache.  The  fact  is, 
however,  he  has  an  obtuse  feeling  that,  through  all 
.  t'his  play  of  ingenuity,  justice  on  the  whole  gets  sub- 
stantially done.  Moreover,  the  mere  legal  quibbles 
are  used  as  instruments  of  escape,  not  of  condemna- 
tion, and  fall  in  with  his  leanings  to  mercy.  Once 
begin  to  confiscate  the  patrimonies  of  his  neighbors 
by  help  of  legal  informalities,  or  to  hang  men  by  soph- 
ism, and  he  will  give  full  proof  of  not  only  his  love 
for  real  justice,  but  his  aversion  for  logical  semblance. 
As  it  is  with  law,  so  with  divinity.  Give  the  Eng- 
lish layman  something  like  right  on  the  whole,  and 
he  will  not  begrudge  the  lawyers  an  ample  margin 
for  the  manoeuvres  of  a  questionable  skill.  Give  him 
something  like  truth  on  the  whole,  by  which  he  may 
guide  himself  and  live,  and  he  will  indulge  the  di- 
vines with  license  of  unlimited  talk,  and  even  look 
with  reverent  admiration  on  ponderous  libraries 
written  about  his  simple  creed.  He  looks  no  further 
into  theology  than  the  demeanor  of  the  parish  cler- 
gyman. Let  the  vicar  and  his  curate  read  the  ser- 
vice impressively,  preach  no  novelties,  light  no  can- 
dles, look  after  the  village  schools,  make  themselves 
useful  at  the  board  of  guardians,  and  keep  the  neigh- 
bors on  pleasant  terms  with  one  another,  and,  for 
aught  he  cares,  they  may  suit  themselves  with  any 
doctrine  between  Whitgift  and  Grotius,  Laud  and 
Tillotson.  He  looks  on  the  clerical  eagerness  about 
dogma  as  he  does  on  his  wife's  gossip  and  volumi- 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          283 

nous  correspondence,  —  as  inherent  in  the  genius  of 
the  class,  and  somehow  related  to  the  nice  percep- 
tion and  voluble  enthusiasm  of  which  he  himself 
feels  the  fascination.  Only  you  must  not  ask  him 
to  take  a  part :  his  business-like  habits  are  apt  to 
bruise  the  graces ;  and  his  plain  understanding  rubs 
out  all  the  fine  distinctions  of  the  creeds.  He  leaves 
these  things  to  ecclesiastics,  and  with  so  free  an  in- 
dulgence that  there  is  scarcely  any  intensity  of  big- 
otry and  absurdity  that  may  not  have  its  way,  pro- 
vided he  and  his  church  are  not  positively  committed 
to  them.  Folly  and  narrow-heartedness  in  one  priest 
are  counterbalanced  by  the  wisdom  and  charity  of 
another;  the  Calvinism  of  a  Simeon  by  the  Armini- 
anism  of  a  Maltby ;  the  sacramental  doctrine  of 
Pusey  by  the  ethical  theology  of  Arnold.  The  Eng- 
lish are  not  a  speculative  people.  And  so  long  as 
they  see  such  men  as  Whately,  Thirlwall,  and  Surn- 
ner  amicably  seated  on  the  same  bench  as  Blom- 
field  and  Philpotts,  no  religious  Churchman  will  miss 
there  a  representative  of  his  faith,  and  the  Estab- 
lished Church  will  gain  the  credit  of  being  reason- 
ably open  to  varieties  of  opinion.  The  decisions 
in  the  Articles  may  be  stringent,  the  pretensions  of 
the  ordination-service  arrogant,  and  the  imprecations 
of  the  creed  unflinching ;  but  while  they  are  not 
pressed  into  any  visible  form  of  ecclesiastical  action, 
the  persons  of  a  few  mild  and  charitable  bishops  suf- 
fice to  counteract  their  effect,  and  to  persuade  men, 
fresh  from  the  very  sound  of  her  anathemas,  that 
they  belong  to  the  most  liberal  of  churches. 

Till  within  the  last  fifteen  years,  the  English  clergy 


284  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

have  well  understood  the  conditions  on  which  this 
favorable  interpretation  of  their  system  depends. 
They  have  not,  indeed,  always  confined  their  con- 
troversies within  friendly  bounds  ;  and  an  over- 
zealous  bishop,  like  Dr.  Marsh,  might  draw  around 
his  diocese  a  close  cordon  of  eighty-seven  questions 
for  the  exclusion  of  Calvinistic  preachers.  But  they 
have  kept  these  differences  to  themselves  :  they  have 
not  driven  the  secular  by-stander  to  take  sides  ;  they 
have,  rather,  relied  on  the  inattention  of  the  majority 
of  laymen  to  dogmatic  divinity ;  and,  amid  internal 
heart-burnings,  have  accepted  compliments  from  neu- 
tral admirers,  on  the  generous  latitude  which  ad- 
mits into  one  communion  Parker  and  Burnet,  New- 
ton and  Paley.  For  some  time  past,  however,  they 
have  evinced  more  ingenuousness  and  less  discre- 
tion ;  the  boast  of  variety  they  have  exchanged  for 
pretensions  to  unity  ;  the  inconsistencies  which  con- 
stituted their  strength  they  would  wipe  out  as  a  re- 
proach. The  Anglican  talks  in  high  strain  of  the 
Catholic  consent,  as  if  he  were  not  contradicted  by 
the  Bible- Society  preacher  in  the  next  parish  church. 
The  Evangelical  glorifies  the  Lutheran  Reforma- 
tion, which  his  Tractarian  neighbor  denounces  as  an 
apostasy ;  and  the  communion  to  which  they  have 
both  taken  vows  is  praised  by  the  one  as  the  great 
ally,  by  the  other  as  the  appointed  barrier,  to  the 
Protestantism  of  Europe.  Both  parties  affect  to  be 
ignorant  that  the  Church  of  England  is  the  product 
of  compromise,  and,  in  its  scheme  of  doctrine  and 
usage,  has  been  voted  into  its  form  of  existence  by 
the  accidents  of  party  and  the  confused  action  and 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          285 

reaction  of  opinion.  They  pretend  that  it  is  con- 
structed around  an  "  Idea  "  :  as  well  might  you  look 
for  such  a  thing  in  a  Parliamentary  resolution,  framed 
to  catch  votes.  It  is  a  dangerous  employment  to 
hunt  for  theories  in  a  system  of  pacified  discrepan- 
cies ;  for  while  such  theories  are  sure  to  be  mutually 
destructive,  each  necessarily  insists  on  having  the 
whole  system  to  itself,  and  will  let  no  lodgings 
under  the  same  roof  to  its  contradictory.  Hence, 
differences,  wide  as  those  which  rent  Christendom 
asunder  in  the  sixteenth  century,  coexist  in  the  na- 
tional Church  ;  but  coexist  only  till  one  class  is 
strong  enough  to  expel  the  other,  or  the  nation  pro- 
voked enough  to  silence  both.  It  is  now  conspicu- 
ous, that  the  scope  for  various  thought  within  our 
ecclesiastical  pale  is  an  involuntary  merit.  It  is  no 
result  of  a  wise  tolerance,  but  is  openly  treated  as 
the  vice  of  a  lax  discipline.  The  Bishop  of  Exe- 
ter leaves  us  in  no  doubt  as  to  what  the  Church 
would  be,  if  he  might  have  the  weeding  of  it ;  and 
could  the  past,  as  well  as  the  present,  be  cited  before 
courts  under  his  inspiration,  it  is  curious  to  think 
how  her  history  and  libraries,  no  less  than  her  pul- 
pits, would  be  thinned.  The  noblest  lights  of  her 
literature  would  be  put  out.  Had  the  Episcopal 
rules  now  contended  for  always  prevailed,  Barrow 
would  have  been  known  only  by  his  lectures  upon 
optics,  and  Samuel  Clarke  as  an  editor  of  Caesar ; 
Tillotson  would  not  have  preached  at  Lincoln's  Inn, 
or  Butler  at  the  Rolls;  no  Cudworth  would  have 
meditated  between  heathen  speculation  and  Chris- 
tian faith ;  where  the  names  of  Berkeley  and  Cum- 


286  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

berland  stand,  the  history  of  philosophy  would  have 
been  blank  ;  Erasmus  would  have  found  no  biog- 
rapher in  Jortin,  and  Wallis  no  admirer  in  Whately ; 
Lowth  and  Whitby,  Paley  and  Coppleston,  —  in 
short,  all  men  whom  a  mild  and  modest  temper  has 
disinclined  towards  extreme  views,  or  a  clear  intellect 
disqualified  for  sacerdotal  pretensions,  would  have 
been  lost  to  the  services  or  adornment  of  the  Church. 
The  question  which  the  ecclesiastical  parties  of  the 
day  are  now  trying  among  themselves  is,  whether  a 
stupid  uniformity,  impossible  to  genius  and  repul- 
sive to  scrupulous  integrity,  shall  be  forced  upon  the 
state  religion.  Momentous  as  that  question  is,  it 
wakes  up  others  far  more  ominous.  The  litigation 
in  the  Gorham  case  is  on  too  large  a  scale,  and  in 
too  curious  a  court,  not  to  attract  regards  seldom  di- 
rected to  theological  affairs.  Men  who  doze  through 
the  sermon  at  their  parish  church  are  all  attention 
at  the  rare  chance  of  hearing  dogma  translated  from 
the  language  of  the  pulpit  into  that  of  the  bar. 
"  Now,  at  least,"  they  think,  "  we  shall  learn  what 
all  this  is  about.  We  shall  get  some  notion  what 
the  schemes  are  between  which  we  have  to  choose." 
We  are  much  mistaken  if  the  result  has  not  been 
general  among  the  educated  laity,  of  utter  disgust  at 
both ;  of  amazement  to  find  themselves  thrown  back 
upon  the  scholastic  jargon  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and 
into  the  dreams  of  an  unawakened  civilization  ;  of 
shame  at  the  utter  unreality,  the  emptiness,  the  cold 
distance  from  nature  and  life,  of  the  tenets  said  to 
constitute  the  religion  of  this  nation.  Every  Eng- 
lishman has  an  interest  in  the  Church,  which  is  in- 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          287 

trusted  with  the  highest  culture  of  the  people,  and 
for  that  end  has  been  endowed  with  resources  unex- 
ampled among  Protestant  spiritual  corporations  ; 
which  monopolizes  the  Crown  and  the  Universities ; 
which  is  protected  by  the  oaths  of  Parliament,  and 
represented  in  the  House  of  Peers  ;  which  distributes 
over  the  land  an  organized  body  of  twelve  thousand 
priests,  whose  primate  is  the  highest  of  subjects, 
while  her  curates  are  in  contact  with  the  lowest ; 
whose  vicissitudes  mingle  everywhere  with  the  his- 
tory of  his  country,  and  sometimes  almost  make  it ; 
and  which  still,  in  the  eye  of  the  world,  represents 
the  place  which  England  is  to  hold  in  the  ultimate 
retrospect  on  Christendom.  In  wading  through  the 
recent  arguments  of  counsel  on  baptismal  regen- 
eration and  prevenient  grace,  we  could  not  help 
asking  ourselves,  "  How  will  this  whole  scheme  of 
doctrine  look  when  gazed  at  from  an  historic  dis- 
tance,—  like  that  from  which  we  regard  the  banish- 
ment of  Anaxagoras,  or  the  trial  of  Socrates  ?  When 
classed  among  the  systems  of  human  thought  upon 
divine  things,  and  thrown  into  the  series  in  which 
are  reviewed  the  myths  of  Plato,  the  ethics  of  An- 
toninus, the  Immanent  Cause  of  Spinoza,  and  the 
moral  theology  of  Kant,  what  figure  will  this  Re- 
ligion of  the  English  in  the  nineteenth  century 
present  ? "  The  future  historian  of  opinion  will 
write  of  us  in  this  strain :  —  "  The  people  who  spoke 
the  language  of  Shakspeare  were  great  in  the  con- 
structive arts  :  the  remains  of  their  vast  works  evince 
an  extraordinary  power  of  combining  and  econo- 
mizing labor ;  their  colonies  were  spread  over  both 


288  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

hemispheres,  and  their  industry  penetrated  to  the  re- 
motest tribes  ;  they  knew  how  to  subjugate  nature 
and  to  govern  men  :  but  the  weakness  of  their 
thought  presented  a  strange  contrast  to  the  vigor  of 
their  arm  ;  and  though  they  were  an  earnest  people, 
their  conceptions  of  human  life  and  its  Divine  Au- 
thor seem  to  have  been  of  the  most  puerile  nature. 
Some  orations  have  been  handed  down,  —  apparent- 
ly delivered  before  one  of  their  most  dignified  tribu- 
nals,—  in  which  (as  the  notes  to  the  last  critical 
edition  fully  establish)  the  question  is  discussed,  '  In 
what  way  the  washing  of  new-born  babies  according 
to  certain  rules  prevented  God's  hating  them.'  The 
curious  feature  is,  that  the  discussion  turns  entirely 
upon  the  manner  in  which  this  wetting  operated  ; 
and  no  doubt  seems  to  have  been  entertained  by  dis- 
putants, judges,  or  audience,  that,  without  it,  a  child 
or  other  person  dying  would  fall  into  the  hands  of 
an  angry  Deity,  and  be  kept  alive  for  ever  to  be  tor- 
tured in  a  burning  cave.  Now,  all  researches  into 
the  contemporary  institutions  of  the  island  show  that 
its  religion  found  its  chief  support  among  the  classes 
possessing  no  mean  station  or  culture,  and  that  the 
education  for  the  priesthood  was  the  highest  which 
the  country  afforded.  This  strange  belief  must  be 
taken,  therefore,  as  the  measure,  not  of  popular  igno- 
rance, but  of  the  most  intellectual  faith.  A  philoso- 
phy and  worship  embodying  such  a  superstition  can 
present  nothing  to  reward  the  labor  of  research." 

It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  tenets  of  this  kind 
may  be  prudently  let  alone,  as  out  of  contact  with 
the  interests  of  this  life ;  and  to  urge  as  a  plea  for 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          289 

indifference  and  silence,  that  theories  about  the  fu- 
ture may  be  left  to  be  corrected  by  the  future.  On 
the  contrary,  there  is  no  heavier  incubus  upon  the 
present  than  false  visions  and  untrustful  fears.  Ideal 
though  they  be,  they  are  a  heavier  burden  than  un- 
equal taxes  and  excessive  toil.  They  depress  the 
springs  of  hope,  mar  the  simplicity  of  speech,  set  a 
police  watch  around  the  movements  of  thought,  and 
drain  off  the  natural  joyousness  of  good  hearts  :  and 
this,  the  paralysis  of  the  person,  is  worse  than  the 
crippling  of  the  lot.  But  their  power  will  prove  ad- 
equate to  both;  and  only  waits,  till  emboldened  by 
indulgence,  to  crown  the  possession  of  the  invisible 
world  with  the  conquest  of  the  visible.  Already  the 
very  superstition  of  which  \ve  have  spoken  exercises 
no  despicable  tyranny,  and  is  constantly  demanding 
more.  For  instance,  we  were  recently  present  at  the 
following  scene.  An  artisan,  who  had  an  infant  in 
dangerous  illness,  hastened  to  the  nearest  clergyman, 
and  implored  him  to  come  and  baptize  the  child. 
The  clergyman,  a  person  of  more  sense  and  kind- 
ness than  orthodoxy,  questioned  him  as  to  the 
grounds  of  so  urgent  a  wish,  and  intimated  that,  in 
his  view,  the  admonition  of  parents,  rather  than  any 
mystic  operation  on  the  child,  constituted  the  essence 
of  the  rite ;  so  that,  where  the  parental  duties  were 
about  to  be  cancelled  by  death,  he  could  scarcely  feel 
that  his  ministrations  would  be  in  place.  The  man, 
thus  encouraged  to  speak  out,  protested  that  neither 
he  nor  his  wife  had  the  slightest  faith  in  baptism. 
"  But  then,  Sir,"  he  added,  "  our  parson  will  never 
bury  the  poor  child  if  she  has  n't  been  sprinkled." 
25 


290  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

We  know  this  to  be  a  case  of  constant  occurrence. 
The  clergy  are  habitually  employed  to  perform  a  rite 
on  whose  efficacy  no  one  present  has  the  faintest  re- 
liance, and  which  is  submitted  to  as  a  part  of  the 
funeral  fee;  and  they  are  thus  the  occasion  of  sur- 
rounding the  cradle  of  the  tenderest  death  with  sul- 
len unbelief  and  hypocrisy.  The  guilty  pretence  is 
not  felt  by  the  parents  as  a  disgrace,  since  it  is  the 
appointed  purchase  of  Christian  interment  for  their 
child.  The  Church  has  here  ordained  a  struggle  be- 
tween veracity  and  affection ;  and  who  can  wonder 
that  her  minister  is  used  as  the  tool  of  falsehood, 
rather  than  endured  as  the  agent  of  tyranny?  In 
every  direction  the  signs  abound  of  a  disposition,  not 
only  to  retain,  but  to  extend  the  pressure  of  Church 
ceremony  and  dogma  upon  public  institutions  and 
private  life.  What  is  the  gist  of  the  whole  con- 
troversy between  the  National  School  Society  and 
the  Educational  Committee  of  Privy  Council  about 
the  management  of  parochial  schools  ?  There  is  no 
question  here,  as  between  sect  and  sect ;  for  no  one 
can  belong  to  the  governing  board  of  such  school 
without  signing  a  solemn  declaration  that  he  is  a  bo- 
nd fide  member  of  the  Church  of  England;  but  the 
National  Society  would  revive  the  sacramental  test, 
and  compel  him  to  qualify  by  taking  the  communion 
thrice  in  the  year.  There  is  no  question  about  the 
character  of  the  religious  instruction  to  be  given  in 
the  schools ;  for  it  is  consigned  to  the  clergymen  of 
the  parish,  with  a  final  reference  to  the  diocesan,  in 
case  of  any  source  of  grievance  or  complaint ;  and  it 
is  imperative  that,  with  the  Holy  Scriptures,  the  Lit- 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          291 

urgy  and  Catechism  of  the  Established  Church  shall 
be  taught:  but  the  National  Society  requires  that 
the  Bishop  should  be  the  last  appeal  on  all  school 
matters,  secular  as  well  as  spiritual.  In  short,  the 
Committee  of  Privy  Council,  as  trustee  of  the  Par- 
liamentary grant,  insists  on  a  fair  proportion  of  lay 
influence,  of  local  administration,  of  secular  instruc- 
tion ;  the  National  Society  regards  as  a  grievance  ev- 
ery thing  that  threatens  clerical  ascendency,  or  raises 
mental  culture  into  independent  importance.  Not 
to  educate,  but  to  restrain  education  within  limits 
suitable  to  a  faith  in  baptismal  regeneration,  is  the 
almost  avowed  end:  and  this  end  is  to  be  accom- 
plished, if  possible,  at  the  public  cost,  —  not  out  of 
ecclesiastical  funds,  but  from  the  exchequer  of  a 
many-faithed  and  half-dissentient  nation.  If  any 
one  is  simple  enough  to  doubt  the  possibility  of  so 
monstrous  a  demand,  his  incredulity  will  be  removed 
by  the  proceedings  of  a  "meeting  of  the  friends  of 
national  education  on  strictly  Church  principles," 
held  at  Willis's  rooms,  February  7th.  On  that  oc- 
casion, Mr.  Napier,  M.  P.,  expounded  the  duty  of  the 
State,  with  the  peculiar  mellifluous  modesty  which 
finds  favor  in  ecclesiastical  assemblies :  that  duty,  he 
said,  "resolved  itself  into  the  confiding  to  the  accred- 
ited instruments  of  God  the  duty  of  bringing  the 
minds  of  the  children  of  God  into  harmony  with  his 
mind  and  his  will."  If  these  terms  had  less  unction, 
they  would  have  more  sense.  But  we  can  hardly  err 
in  supposing  that  the  "  accredited  instruments  of 
God  "  are  the  gentlemen  in  holy  orders ;  that  by  "  his 
mind  and  his  will"  are  meant  "  strictly  Church  princi- 


292  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

pies  " ;  that  "  the  children  of  God  "  are  the  youth  of 
these  realms.  The  speaker,  therefore,  intimating  that 
"  the  question  ought  to  be  easy  of  settlement,"  re- 
quires that  the  whole  education  of  the  country  be 
delivered  over  into  the  hands  of  the  clergy.  And 
this  he  affirms  to  be,  "  not  preference  for  the  Church, 
but  justice  "  ;  declaring  the  refusal  of  it  by  the  Privy 
Council  to  be  "  an  attempt  to  exclude  God  from  the 
government  of  the  world;  to  separate  Providence 
from  man;  to  set  up  the  wisdom  of  man  against 
God's  truth."  Is  any  one  so  ill-read  in  ecclesiastical 
history  as  not  to  know  the  savor  of  this  language? 
The  tact  of  our  forefathers  discovered  that  a  cardi- 
nal's fit  of  humility,  and  tears  of  unusual  pathos 
from  the  servant  of  all,  were  the  sure  prelude  to 
some  high  audacity  of  the  triple  crown  ;  and  the  tone 
of  aggrieved  innocence  in  a  church  is  the  common 
disguise  of  meditated  usurpation.  The  resolution 
which  immediately  follows  Mr.  Napier's  demand  of 
"justice  to  the  Church,"  throws  a  further  light  upon 
the  meaning  of  this  plaintive  phraseology.  It  pre- 
fers against  the  educational  Committee  of  Council 
the  complaint,  that  they  "  have  in  their  corporate  ca- 
pacity no  definite  creed,  but  encourage  indiscrim- 
inately various  and  conflicting  forms  of  belief." 
And,  in  urging  this  complaint,  Mr.  G.  A.  Denison 
ingeniously  states  the  only  remedy  which  the  eccle- 
siastical conscience  can  accept:  — 

"  The  greatest  danger  of  all  was  the  practical  negation 
of  definite  truth  which  was  found  so  largely  in  the  Church 
itself,  from  that  spirit  of  compromise  which  led  men,  for 
the  sake  of  what  they  erroneously  called  peace,  to  fritter 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          293 

away  the  objective  truth  of  God ;  from  that  sickly  senti- 
ment which  made  men  shrink  from  unfurling  the  banner  of 
God,  because  on  that  banner  were  written  the  awful  words, 
'  This  is  the  catholic  faith,  which  unless  man  believes  he 
cannot  be  saved.'  The  effects  of  this  spirit  of  negation  and 
of  compromise  were  not  far  to  seek.  The  question  of  ed- 
ucation had  been,  from  the  first,  between  the  maintenance 
or  the  surrender  of  the  creed  and  doctrines  of  the  church 
catholic,  and  of  the  catechism  of  the  Church  of  England. 
All  education  flowed  from,  and  necessarily  depended  upon, 
the  doctrine  of  regeneration  in  baptism,  —  that  doctrine, 
which  had  so  monstrously  been  of  late  made  the  subject  of 
appeal  to  a  court  not  necessarily  composed  of  churchmen, 
and  having  necessarily  no  spiritual  character." 

The  State,  then,  acting  through  the  Committee  of 
Council,  does  wrong, —  a  wrong  to  the  Church,  —  in 
"  encouraging  various  and  conflicting  forms  of  be- 
lief." The  "  encouragement,"  however,  consists  sim- 
ply in  letting  them  alone ;  in  setting  up  no  inquisi- 
tion into  the  orthodoxy  of  the  voluntary  schools  to 
which  it  renders  aid ;  in  not  forcing  Jewish  infants 
to  learn  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  Presbyterian 
teachers  to  inculcate  episcopal  succession,  Socinians 
to  profess  the  Athanasian  Creed,  and  Quakers  to 
take  the  Eucharist.  The  crime  of  the  government 
—  the  injury  it  inflicts  upon  the  Church  —  is  in  al- 
lowing these  heretics  to  teach  any  thing  at  all :  they 
should  be  wholly  ignored ;  made  to  pay  for  the  in- 
struction of  their  neighbors'  children  —  perhaps  their 
own  —  in  what  is  abominable  in  their  eyes ;  but  be 
left  to  their  native  darkness,  until  they  repent  of  the 
error  of  their  ways.  Poor,  injured  Church !  Was 
25* 


294  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

there  ever  a  harder  case  ?  Was  ever  innocence  so 
buffeted  ?  How  can  she  discharge  her  commission 
on  these  terms?  They  are  nothing  less  than  an 
Egyptian  cruelty,  demanding  bricks  and  withholding 
straw.  Is  she  not  intrusted  with  the  sacraments, 
without  which  there  is  no  salvation  ?  And  how  can 
she  dispense  these,  and  indulge  her  mercy  for  im- 
perilled souls,  if  deluded  parents  are  allowed  to  ex- 
ercise a  vain  self-will,  and  train  their  children  in  the 
fatal  errors  of  an  unbaptized  intelligence?  How 
can  she  be  faithful,  if  sectaries,  whom  she  is  bound 
to  treat  as  aliens  and  pity  as  apostates,  are  to  be  ad- 
mitted as  subjects  equal  under  the  law? — if  she  is 
to  be  responsible  to  infidel  or  schismatical  legisla- 
tors and  their  latitudinarian  commissions  ?  —  if  she 
is  not  to  feel  herself  above  the  people's  will  in  her 
use  of  the  people's  money,  and  meet  no  rival  to  un- 
do her  work  in  dispensing  this  world's  goods  for 
another  world's  blessings  ?  It  is  not  possible  to  mis- 
take the  tendency  of  all  this  lamentation.  The 
plaintiff  of  this  class  would  be  thankful  for  a  discrim- 
inating earthquake,  that  should  swallow  up,  without 
fault  of  his,  all  people  who  frequent  mass-houses 
and  conventicles,  and  get  rid  of  all  difficulty,  by 
rounding  off  the  nation  into  the  old  ecclesiastical  in- 
tegrity, paring  away  the  ravelled  edges  of  dissent, 
and  leaving  the  Church  smooth  and  trim  as  a  text- 
ure selvaged  every  way.  Nay,  he  must  be  the 
most  illogical  of  men,  if  he  would  not  contribute, 
by  a  free  use  of  direct  persecution,  to  the  same  re- 
sult. If  the  State  is  boflnd  to  help  only  the  true 
Church,  is  it  not  bound  to  hinder  the  false  ones  ? 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  295 

Why  mulct  the  dissenter's  pocket  on  behalf  of  God's 
truth,  and  leave  his  person  free  to  propagate  a  lie  ? 
If,  according  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Anglican  clergy 
and  the  French  police,  "  the  duty  of  every  govern- 
ment is  to  combat  false  ideas,  and  to  direct  those 
which  are  true  by  placing  itself  boldly  at  the  head  of 
them,"*  —  it  is  folly  to  go  one-armed  into  the  com- 
bat, brandishing  a  left-handed  encouragement,  and 
letting  the  heavy  fist  of  repression  hang  down  as  if 
under  the  spell  of  palsy.  Unless  it  can  be  shown  — 
and  assuredly  it  cannot  —  that  the  sword  and  the 
rack  are  ineffectual  for  the  eradication  of  sects,  the 
same  obligation  which  pledges  the  public  treasure 
pledges  no  less  the  penal  law  to  the  "  definite 
creed  "  of  the  government  "  in  its  corporate  capaci- 
ty." Nor  could  we  ever  see  any  reason,  on  "  Church 
principles,"  for  squeamishness  upon  the  matter.  Eter- 
nal consequences  must  override  all  the  lesser  hu- 
manities. You  make  no  scruple  about  shooting  a 
score  of  mutineers  to  prevent  the  disorganization  of 
an  army :  why  hesitate  to  burn  up  a  small  sect,  to 
stop  the  perdition  of  a  people  ?  To  believe  in  the 
necessity  of  baptism,  we  are  told,  is  "  fundamental- 
ly vital  to  salvation "  ;  and  hence  "  all  education 
must  flow  from  this  doctrine,  and  the  State  is  bound 
to  have  it  taught  to  the  people.  But  if  salvation 
includes  among  its  conditions  a  belief  in  the  rite's 
necessity,  much  more  must  it  involve,  as  an  inner 
nucleus  of  essentiality,  the  actual  rite  itself;  and  the 
government  which  is  to  sanction  only  baptismal 

*  See  the  Proclamation  of  M.  Carlier,  Police  Minister,  Feb.  10. 


296  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

teaching  must  a  fortiori  tolerate  only  baptismal 
practice.  It  is  absurd  to  enforce  the  doctrine  and 
not  secure  the  thing.  Then  why  not  provide  a 
State  font  at  every  market  cross,  and  baptize  under 
inspection  of  the  police?  Why  not  enact  penal- 
ties against  the  "  pretended  holy  orders  "  of  dissent- 
ers, by  which  a  spurious  and  ineffectual  imitation 
of  the  divine  charm  is  palmed  off  upon  simple  peo- 
ple ?  You  punish  quacks  who  destroy  life  by  giving 
medicines  which  they  know  not  how  to  handle : 
why  not  put  away  heretics  who  ruin  souls  by  admin- 
istering a  rite  that  turns  from  a  sacrament  to  a  poi- 
son in  their  hands  ?  To  allow  the  self-will  of  parents 
any  voice  in  the  matter  is  the  mere  imbecility  of 
false  indulgence.  It  has  for  ages  been  held,  that  a 
father  has  no  power  against  the  life  of  his  children ; 
it  is  now  generally  acknowledged,  that  he  must  not 
be  at  liberty  to  suppress  their  intelligence ;  and  shall 
we  leave  to  him  the  right  to  sequestrate  their  salva- 
tion? To  limit  by  penal  law  the  minor  excesses  of 
the  patria  polestas,  and  refuse  a  like  protection 
against  this  most  tremendous  injury,  is  the  grossest 
inconsistency;  and  it  should  be  made  the  duty  of 
the  detective  force  to  ferret  out  every  unbaptized 
child,  and  take  him  to  the  nearest  successor  of 
the  Apostles.  These  consequences  of  the  "  strictly 
Church  principle "  are  so  obvious,  that,  if  they  are 
not  openly  mentioned,  it  can  scarcely  be  that  they 
are  yet  undiscerned.  At  all  events,  if  our  Anglican 
clergy  make  no  immediate  proposal  to  revive  the  pe- 
nal laws,  it  is  not  for  want  of  premises  suitable  for 
its  defence :  the  requisite  logic  is  ready  at  a  mo- 


THE    CHURCH    OF    ENGLAND. 


ment's  notice,  and  only  slumbers  within  the  theory 
till  the  dawn  of  some  reactionary  crisis  favors  its 
waking  into  activity. 

It  appears  to  be  shocking  in  the  eyes  of  our  spir- 
itual guides  that  any  one  but  themselves  should  look 
into  the  doctrines  which  they  inculcate,  —  discuss 
them,  —  do  any  thing  with  them  but  believe  them. 
Holy  hands  are  lifted  up  in  horror  when  such  mys- 
teries are  approached  by  the  gaze  of  a  layman's  un- 
commissioned mind ;  and  a  divine  patent  is  claimed 
not  only  for  dispensing,  but  for  discerning,  sacred 
truth.  That  men  like  Lord  Campbell,  accustomed 
only  to  the  rules  of  profane  evidence,  should  exer- 
cise their  judicial  understanding  upon  a  sacramental 
proposition,  affects  the  perpetual  curate  of  St.  Paul's, 
Knightsbridge,  with  lively  consternation:  — 

"  At  this  very  instant,  one  of  the  vital  doctrines  of  our 
faith  is  being  judged,  —  is  being  called,  in  question,  —  is  be- 
ing argued  and  debated  about,  as  though  it  had  not  been 
the  creed  of  the  Catholic  Church,  known  and  witnessed  to 
from  the  Apostles  downwards.  It  is  being  argued,  and  is 
to  be  judged,  by  those  who,  in  good  truth,  cannot  by  the 
laws  of  Christ  sit  in  judgment  at  all,  seeing  the  laws  of 
Christ  have  given  them  no  such  power. 

"  How  can  they  judge  of  Christ's  doctrine,  who  have  had 
no  commission  from  Christ  ? 

"  How  can  they  judge  of  what  is  TRUTH,  to  whom  the 
word  of  truth  has  not  been  committed  ? 

"  How  can  they  take  upon  themselves,  even  for  a  mo- 
ment, to  let  the  question  move  past  them,  as  a  question, 
who  know  not  that  the  FOUNDATION  OF  CHRISTIANITY  lies 
in  the  doctrine  which  they  dare  to  handle  ? 

"  It  is  an  awful  thing  even  to  be,  as  we  are  now,  for 


298  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

months  in  suspense  as  to  what  the  State  may  pronounce 
about  a  doctrine  which  is  fundamentally  vital  to  salva- 
tion. 

"It  is  an  awful  thing  to  see  men  of  a  mere  temporal 
power  dive  into  the  mysteries  of  the  deep  things  of  the 
Spirit. 

"  It  is  an  awful  thing  to  see  the  men  of  Caesar  —  as  of 
Caesar  —  plunge  so  recklessly,  and  with  such  utter  confusion, 
into  the  things  of  God."  —  p.  16. 

This  sacerdotal  arrogance  might  be  permitted  to 
have  its  way,  and  spend  itself  against  the  energies 
of  the  age,  if  it  were  the  outpouring  of  some  pri- 
vate sect,  delivered  from  the  pulpit  of  an  oratory,  or 
flattering  to  the  owners  of  an  Ebenezer.  The  vis- 
ions of  Swedenborg,  the  pretensions  of  Poughkeep- 
sie  seers,  and  the  Mormon  inspirations  of  Joe  Smith 
the  prophet,  may  be  left  without  remonstrance  to 
try  their  strength  upon  the  ignorance  of  the  age  or 
on  the  permanent  tendencies  to  psychological  illu- 
sion. And  if  any  number  of  Oxford  graduates, 
whose  heads  have  been  turned  with  ecclesiology,  are 
convinced  that  they  hold  the  power  of  the  keys,  and 
if,  by  the  combined  force  of  bad  arguments  and 
good  works,  they  can  induce  country  gentlemen  and 
suburban  shopkeepers  to  employ  them,  at  their  own 
charges,  in  opening  and  shutting  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  no  one  would  have  the  least  title  to  com- 
plain. But  when  this  sort  of  profession  occupies  the 
parish  church  and  claims  the  parish  school,  when  it 
lives  upon  the  farmer's  tithe,  and  grows  on  chapter 
lands,  and  thrives  with  bishops'  rents,  its  proud  re- 
pulse to  lay  investigation  becomes  ridiculous.  It  is 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  299 

open  to  criticism,  not  from  the  controversialist  only, 
but  from  the  politician.  While  every  theology  is 
exposed  to  the  question,  Is  it  true  ?  a  State  Church 
theology  is  liable  to  the  more  practical  inquiry,  Is  it 
adapted  to  the  condition  of  the  national  mind  ?  Does 
it  express  this  people's  noblest  thought  and  purest 
aspiration  ?  Does  it  stand  in  sympathy  with  their 
common  affections,  yet  above  their  highest  culture  ? 
These  questions  a  government  is  bound  to  ask,  and 
public  men  to  urge ;  and  a  Church  that  cannot 
answer  them  in  good  affirmatives,  or  that  will  not 
condescend  to  answer  them  at  all,  is  disqualified  for 
longer  occupancy  of  the  national  endowment.  A 
priesthood  which,  asserting  a  Divine  commission, 
cannot  submit  to  any  lower  question  than  Is  it  true  ? 
nor  even  to  that,  except  from  its  own  tribunals,  so 
that  question  and  answer  shall  both  issue  from  itself, 
is,  ip so  facto,  unfit  for  alliance  with  the  State.  The 
temporal  powers  must  estimate  the  claim  by  an  hum- 
bler rule :  "  Does  our  nation  think  it  true  ?  "  If  the 
reply  be  negative,  lament  as  we  may  the  perversity 
of  human  nature,  the  Church  is  no  better  able  to 
teach  the  people  than  if  she  were  not  infallible. 

We  are  well  aware  that  this  is  "  low  Erastian- 
ism  "  ;  we  know  the  kind  of  feeling  with  which  such 
principles  are  regarded  by  divines  like  Mr.  Bennett. 
The  argument  of  his  pamphlet,  however,  has  done 
much  to  confirm  us  in  their  truth.  He  boldly  denies 
any  obligation  on  the  part  of  the  Church  to  accept 
or  perform  conditions  imposed  by  the  State ;  asserts, 
that  it  is  unfettered  by  any  civil  engagements ;  is  not 
bound,  except  as  a  matter  of  painful  necessity,  to 


300  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

recognize  Parliament  at  all ;  and  ought  to  have  all 
the  temporalities  of  an  earthly  establishment  with 
the  spiritual  absoluteness  of  a  heavenly  hierarchy. 
The  Church's  alliance  is  not  with  the  State,  but 
with  the  Crown.  These  positions  are  made  to  rest 
entirely  on  the  arbitrary  power  of  the  Tudor  and 
Stuart  monarchs,  in  whose  reigns  the  Anglican 
Church  was  constituted,  and  on  the  then  undeveloped 
state  of  our  representative  institutions.  At  the  time 
of  the  Reformation,  and  long  after,  Parliament  was 
of  no  account :  its  very  existence,  as  a  power  in  the 
State,  the  Church  at  its  formation  never  intended  to 
recognize.  The  oath  of  supremacy  was,  and  is,  to 
the  sovereign  alone ;  to  the  sovereign,  moreover,  not 
as  constitutional  head  of  the  empire,  but  as  ruling 
by  divine  right.  Churchmen  have  "  the  high  privi- 
lege and  blessing  of  looking  on  him  as  our  anointed 
terrestrial  governor  under  Christ."  "  Thus  the  case 
stands  as  between  the  Church  and  the  sovereign 
ruler ;  but  between  the  Church  and  the  State  the 
question  is  entirely  different.  The  sovereign  exer- 
cises his  office  as  coming  from  GOD,  —  the  State  as 
coming  from  MAN.  The  State  is  nothing  more  than 
an  incorporation  of  a  legislative,  judicial^  and  execu~ 
live  power,  appointed,  regulated,  and  changing  from 
time  to  time  according  to  the  constitution  of  a  coun- 
try, which  in  England  depends  on  the  will  of  the 
people,  and  is  not  in  any  way  of  necessity  ecclesias- 
tical." "  While  adhering  to  the  one  as  God's  ap- 
pointed terrestrial  governor,  it  might  be  severed  from 
the  other  as  being  at  enmity  with  God."  —  p.  7. 
After  this  profession  of  anti-state-church  loyalty, 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          301 

we  had  concluded  that  the  "anointed person"  might 
rely  on  Mr.  Bennett's  implicit  obedience ;  while  an 
heretical  Parliament  —  unless  it  stopped  the  mouth 
of  its  judicial  committee  —  would  be  in  imminent 
danger  of  losing  his  services.  What  was  our  amaze- 
ment to  find,  on  the  one  hand,  that,  on  the  first  sign 
in  "  God's  terrestrial  governor  "  of  any  deviation  (as  in 
James  the  Second's  reign)  from  "  true  allegiance  to  the 
Church,"  he  would  disobey  the  crown  (p.  10) ;  and 
on  the  other,  that,  though  his  "  conscience  should  be 
aggrieved"  by  "unjust  law,"  and  he  should  feel  the 
time  come  to  "  obey  God  rather  than  man,"  he  could 
never  think  of  resigning  his  pastoral  office  on  that 
account ;  it  would  be  far  too  cruel  to  "  the  little 
ones  in  Christ,"  — "  the  POOR,"  —  whose  "  faith 
hangs  on  Ms;  whose  dutifulness  and  adherence  to 
the  Church  depend  on  his"  "  He  must  not  dissolve 
that  bond  that  was  made  for  him  by  the  Holy  Ghost 
lightly"  He  must  think  that  it  is  " the  HIRELING  on- 
ly that  fieeth,  because  he  careth  not  for  the  sheep." 
He  must  anticipate  the  question  which  will  be  put 
to  him  at  the  great  day,  —  "  Where  is  thy  flock,  thy 
beautiful  flock  ?  "  (p.  32.)  And  so,  with  a  bleeding 
conscience,  in  a  Church  bereft  of  catholic  truth,  the 
preacher  proposes  to  remain  "  Perpetual  Curate  of 
St.  Paul's,  Knightsbridge." 

If,  however,  he  abides  by  the  flock,  and  acquiesces 
in  Parliamentary  law,  it  is  more  than  could  fairly  be 
expected,  and  must  not  be  misinterpreted.  The 
Church  entered  into  its  engagements  in  the  time  of 
the  Tudors,  and  has  nothing  to  do  with  any  of  the 
follies  which  society  may  have  committed  since. 
26 


302  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

Cranraer  having  had  no  notion  of  the  Reform  Bill, 
the  clergy  are  not  bound  to  recognize  the  existing 
legislature ;  and  Queen  Victoria  is  to  them  only  a 
perpetuation  of  Henry  the  Eighth. 

"  In  regard  to  this  point,  i.  e.  that  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the 
Eighth  the  whole  power  of  the  State  resided  virtually  in  the 
person  of  the  sovereign,  it  must  be  evident  that  the  Church, 
though  she  embraced  (in  consideration  of  an  anointed  king, 
set  over  her  in  the  Lord)  the  idea  of  obedience  to  him  per- 
sonally under  Christ,  she  never  contemplated  the  possibility 
of  the  present  form  of  government,  by  which  the  sovereign 
personally  is  of  no  power  whatsoever. 

"  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  the  sovereigns  succeeding  him, 
were  absolute  and  despotic  ;  and  their  own  will  was  sufficient 
argument  for  acts  of  power,  however  arbitrary.  Their  min- 
isters and  their  Parliaments  were  mere  shadows.  They  had 
none  of  that  constitutional  strength,  by  the  voice  of  the  peo- 
ple, which  now  makes  them  irresistible.  By  the  abdication  of 
James  the  Second,  and  the  introduction  of  a  new  family  upon 
the  throne,  opportunity  was  taken  to  break  down  this  despotic 
power  of  the  Tudor  and  Stuart  kings.  Acts  were  passed  in 
the  reign  of  William  the  Third,  limiting  and  denning  the 
royal  prerogative.  From  that  time  —  the  democratic  power 
gradually  increasing,  and  the  constitution,  in  every  change, 
becoming  more  of  the  people  and  less  of  the  sovereign  — 
now  it  has  come  to  pass  that  all  real  government  and  power 
is  lodged,  not  in  the  crown,  but  in  the  prime  minister,  —  that 
officer  of  the  State  becoming  so,  virtually,  by  the  voice  of 
the  people.  So  that  now,  as  in  practice  we  know  it  is,  the 
Church  is  governed,  not  as  the  Church  promised  she  would 
be  governed,  by  the  anointed  of  the  Lord,  but  by  the 
voice  of  some  accidental  person,  whomsoever  the  convul- 
sions of  politics  may  from  time  to  time  cast  up  into  the  seat 
of  power."  — p.  23. 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  303 

Now,  what  would  be  thought  of  any  other  corpo- 
ration, not  ecclesiastical,  that  should  reason  in  this 
way,  and  not  only  plead  its  charter  against  Parlia- 
ment, but  contend  that  the  royal  control  can  only  be 
exercised*  according  to  the  forms  and  offices  of  the 
sixteenth  century  ?  Besides,  the  more  absolute  the 
monarch  to  whom  the  Church  pledged  her  obedience, 
the  less  questionable  his  right  to  delegate  his  powers 
to  whom  he  will,  and  distribute  to  Parliament  a  share 
of  the  prerogative  once  centred  in  him.  And  how 
stands  the  historical  fact,  as  to  the  alleged  submis- 
sion of  the  Church  to  the  mere  person  of  the  sov- 
ereign ?  The  preamble  to  the  "  Act  (1st  Elizabeth) 
for  the  Uniformity  of  Common  Prayer  and  Admin- 
istration of  the  Sacraments,"  runs  thus  :  — 

"  When,  at  the  death  of  our  late  Sovereign  Lord  King 
Edward  the  Sixth,  there  remained  one  uniform  order  of 
Common  Service  and  Prayer,  and  of  the  Administration  of 
Sacraments,  Rites,  and  Ceremonies,  in  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, which  was  set  forth  in  one  book,  intituled,  '  The  Book 
of  Common  Prayer,  and  Administration  of  Sacraments,  and 
other  Rites  and  Ceremonies,  in  the  Church  of  England, 
authorized  by  Act  of  Parliament,  holden  in  the  fifth  and 
sixth  years  of  our  said  late  Sovereign  Lord  King  Edward 
the  Sixth,  intituled,  An  Act  for  the  Uniformity  of  Common 
Prayer,  and  Administration  of  the  Sacraments,  the  which 
was  repealed  and  taken  away  by  Act  of  Parliament,  in  the 
first  year  of  the  reign  of  our  late  Sovereign  and  Lady  Queen 
Mary,  to  the  great  decay  of  the  due  honor  of  God,  and  dis- 
comfort to  the  professors  of  the  truth  of  Christ's  religion ; 

"  Be  it  therefore  enacted  by  the  authority  of  this  present 
Parliament,"  &c. 


304  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

If  the  unqualified  subservience  of  the  Tudor  Par- 
liaments to  the  royal  will  be  urged  against  such 
early  evidence,  we  have  only  to  come  down  to  a  later 
period,  —  a  period  disgraceful  indeed  in  many  ways, 
but  not  without  adequate  memory  and  experience 
of  Parliamentary  power ;  and  in  the  14th  of  Charles 
the  Second  we  have  a  similar  wording  in  the  Bar- 
tholomew Act  of  Uniformity  :  — 

"  Be  it  enacted  by  the  King's  most  excellent  Majesty,  ly 
the  advice  and  with  the  consent  of  the  Lords  Spiritual  and 
Temporal,  and  of  the  Commons  in  this  present  Parliament 
assembled,  and  by  the  authority  of  the  same,  that  all  and  sin- 
gular ministers,  in  any  Cathedral,  collegiate,  or  parish  church 
or  chapel,  or  other  place  of  public  worship  within  this  realm 
of  England,  Dominion  of  Wales,  and  Town  of  Berwick- 
upon-Tweed,  shall  be  bound  to  say  and  use  the  Morning 
Prayer,  Evening  Prayer,  Celebration  and  Administration  of 
both  the  Sacraments,  and  all  other  the  Public  and  Common- 
Prayer,  in  such  order  and  form  as  is  mentioned  in  the  said 
book,  annexed  and  joined  this  present  Act,  and  intituled, 
'  The  Book  of  Common-Prayer,  and  Administration  of  the 
Sacraments,'  "  &c. 

Here  is  an  act  of  Parliament,  under  which  the 
prayers  are  weekly  read,  and  the  sacraments  admin- 
istered throughout  all  England ;  which  introduced 
alterations  on  the  previous  forms;  which  ordained 
the  severest  penalties  against  recusant  clergymen ; 
and,  by  enforcement  of  such  penalties,  vacated  two 
thousand  livings,  and  created  the  body  of  Dissenters. 
Yet  the  Church,  we  are  told,  ought  to  hold  on  its 
way  in  sublime  unconsciousness  of  a  House  of  Com- 
mons ;  conniving  perhaps,  occasionally,  at  its  exist- 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          305 

ence,  and  using,  for  clerical  purposes,  "  the  disagree- 
able  truth"  that  "the  real  seat  of  power"  lies  there; 
but  always  prepared  to  fall  back  upon  divine  right, 
and  disown  the  constitutional  state  as  a  vulgar  inno- 
vation. Mr.  Bennett  himself,  in  seeking  redress  for 
what  he  is  pleased  to  call  "the  religious  disabilities 
of  the  Church  of  England,"  does  not  deign  to  speak 
to  the  High  Court  of  Parliament.  He  petitions  her 
Majesty  in  person,  and  prays  her  to  take  in  hand 
this  disagreeable  business  of  dealing  with  the  Houses. 
And  what  is  the  message  with  which  he  would  send 
her  Majesty  down  to  St.  Stephen's  on  his  behalf? 
Why,  to  tell  the  Peers  and  the  Commons,  that  they, 
"  being  no  longer  the  Church,  but  having  the  Church 
under  their  dominion,  must  be  demanded  to  forego 
that  dominion  as  being  an  unrighteous  usurpation  ! " 
(p.  27.)  A  pleasant  errand  to  "the  real  seat  of 
power  " ! 

It  is  a  strange  infatuation  to  imagine  that  English- 
men will  ever  recognize  in  their  Church  an  independ- 
ent, self-governing,  immutable  body,  exempt  from 
constitutional  restraints,  and  shielded  from  those 
changes  which  the  progress  of  knowledge  and  the 
vicissitudes  of  thought  introduce  everywhere  else. 
They  are  not  in  general  very  well  read  in  the  histo- 
ry of  their  country ;  but  every  boy,  from  the  upper 
classes  of  a  British  or  National  school,  knows  enough 
of  the  course  of  ecclesiastical  affairs  during  the  last 
three  centuries,  to  make  the  pretensions  of  the  An- 
glican priests  to  catholic  unity  appear  preposterous. 
Moreover,  a  claim  that  might  pass  without  challenge 
when  all  the  religion  of  the  land  was  centred  in  one 
26* 


306  MARTINEAU'S  MISCELLANIES. 

communion,  becomes  not  only  offensive,  but  intrin- 
sically incredible,  when  the  characteristics  of  a  de- 
vout mind,  and  the  faithfulness  of  the  Christian  life, 
present  themselves  without  visible  distinction  in  nu- 
merous churches.  A  citizen  of  a  large  town  can 
wander  every  Sunday  into  the  chapel  to  hear  mass, 
or  into  the  Friends'  meeting-house  to  keep  silence, 
or  into  the  Wesleyan,  or  Independent,  or  Unitarian 
chapel,  to  hear  in  each  a  different  doctrine  of  nature 
and  of  grace,  expounded  perhaps  in  a  manner  quite 
as  edifying  as  the  rector's.  How  can  you  persuade 
that  man  that  Christ  has  only  one  church  in  Eng- 
land?—  that  the  rector  is  distinguished  from  all 
these  people,  as  a  divine  messenger  from  a  set  of  im- 
postors ?  —  that  he  is  appointed  to  open  and  shut  the 
heavenly  kingdom,  while  they  are  set  for  a  delusion 
and  a  snare  ?  If  you  should  provoke  his  sense  of 
justice  by  this  style  of  talk,  does  he  not  know  that 
Parliament,  that  once  put  the  Roman  Catholics  out 
of  the  parish  churches,  could  put  any  of  these  sects 
in?  —  or  could  leave  each  parish  as  free  to  choose 
its  ministers  as  its  church- wardens  ?  —  or  could  repeal 
the  Act  of  Uniformity,  which  deprives  the  clergyman 
of  all  power  to  vary  the  worship  according  to  his 
own  state  of  mind,  or  that  of  his  parishioners  ?  A 
people  that  have  found  a  new  shape  for  their  Parlia- 
ment will  not  believe  their  Church  inflexible.  The 
clergy,  who  apparently  cannot  distinguish  between 
the  permanence  of  objective  truth  and  the  mutabil- 
ity of  representative  forms  and  dogmas,  will  proba- 
bly wait  for  the  painful  lessons  of  experience.  But 
other  classes,  startled  by  the  reappearance  of  doc- 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  307 

trines  worthy  of  the  age  of  Laud,  and  discussions  in 
the  style  of  Peter  Lombard,  are  meditating  the  ques- 
tion whether  the  Church  is  really  fulfilling  the  under- 
stood conditions  of  an  establishment.  This  question, 
as  now  entertained,  goes  much  further,  we  are  con- 
vinced, than  it  ever  has  before.  It  is  not  a  mere 
doubt  about  patronage  and  the  sale  of  presentations, 
though  that  is  a  thing  odious  to  common  sense  and 
natural  piety;  it  is  not  a  scruple  as  to  pluralities, 
though  custom  only  can  grow  tolerant  of  the  abuse ; 
it  is  not  an  objection  to  the  incomes  of  the  bishops, 
though  they  do  seem  to  detach  the  apostolic  func- 
tion from  the  apostolic  lot;  it  is  not  a  discontent 
with  the  monopoly  of  the  Universities,  galling  as 
that  is  to  the  intellectual  aspirations  of  dissent ;  it  is 
not  a  pity  for  poor  curates,  or  an  aversion  to  ecclesi- 
astical courts,  but  the  far  deeper  question  whether 
that  which  the  Church  teaches  can  truly  be  called 
the  religion  of  this  nation.  Its  theory  of  life,  its  pic- 
ture of  human  nature  and  representations  of  the  di- 
vine, its  ideal  of  moral  perfection,  its  demands  on 
intellectual  assent,  —  are  they  in  agreement  with  the 
living  faith,  the  noblest  inspirations,  the  clearest 
knowledge,  and  the  true  heart-worship  of  the  pres- 
ent English  people !  Or  must  it  be  said,  that  what 
is  held  true  by  the  best  informed  rouses  the  fright- 
ened ecclesiastic  instinct;  that  what  the  devoutest 
believe  is  not  written  in  the  creed;  that  what  the 
purest  and  richest  souls  admire  breathes  through  no 
appointed  prayer;  and  that,  in  the  real  doubts  and 
strife  of  their  existence,  men  betake  themselves  to 
other  thoughts  than  the  curate's  commonplace  ? 


308  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

Recent  events,  we  believe,  have  awakened  thou- 
sands to  the  consciousness  of  an  alarming  interval 
between  the  dogmatic  system  of  the  Church  and  the 
living  spirit  of  the  time  ;  and  for  one  who  refers  this 
to  the  degeneracy  of  the  age,  there  are  a  hundred  who 
regard  it  as  an  antiquation  of  the  Church.  Unhap- 
pily, there  is  no  simultaneous  growth  of  confidence 
in  any  other  denomination,  and  so  the  clergy,  always 
debarred  from  ready  access  to  doubting  hearts,  and 
seeing  at  present  no  swarm  from  their  parish  pews 
to  the  conventicle,  are  blind  to  the  signs  of  the  time. 
They  will  be  the  last  to  know  how  completely  ex- 
ceptional, among  their  hearers,  is  any  genuine  faith 
in  the  system  of  doctrine  which  they  teach;  —  how 
many,  with  all  the  tastes  and  habits  of  conformity, 
are  conscious  of  an  active  unbelief,  and  sigh  after 
something  of  higher  truth  ;  —  how  many  more  rath- 
er suffer  the  service  to  pass  before  them,  and  graze 
the  surface  of  their  minds,  than  take  it  up  as  any 
expression  of  the  depth  and  intensity  of  their  nature. 
The  patience  of  the  English  race,  the  endowments 
of  the  English  Church,  and  the  respectable  charac- 
ter of  the  English  clergy,  only  mask  for  a  while  the 
fact,  conspicuous  in  the  rest  of  Europe,  that  the 
Protestantism  of  the  sixteenth  century  has  worn  it- 
self out,  and  gives  no  adequate  voice  to  the  faith 
and  piety  of  the  present  age.  The  very  difficulty 
felt  in  dealing  plainly  with  this  subject,  —  the  deli- 
cacy with  which  it  is  always  handled,  —  the  air  of 
solemn  respect  with  which  public  writers  look  at  it, 
and  pass  by  on  the  other  side,  —  are  evident  indi- 
cations that  a  blight  of  unreality  has  fallen  on  the 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          309 

national  theology.  A  faith  truly  breathing  and  pul- 
sating in  the  soul  cannot  thus  hold  itself  back  in  in- 
terior congestion,  leaving  the  external  form  of  con- 
temporary thought  stately  as  marble  and  impassive 
as  death ;  but  will  flow  into  a  thousand  impressible 
varieties  of  natural  language,  and  flush  the  frame 
and  quicken  the  features  with  a  free  and  flexible  life. 
The  reverence,  the  trust,  the  devout  hope  of  a  great 
people,  can  never  fall  into  the  artificial  custody  of  a 
"  religious  public,"  or  utter  themselves  only  through 
the  mouthpiece  of  a  separate  "  profession."  Doc- 
trines which  cannot  be  gravely  mentioned  without 
incurring  the  imputation  of  cant,  —  which  are  dis- 
tasteful, not  chiefly  to  the  vain  and  careless,  but  yet 
more  to  the  thoughtful  and  earnest,  —  which  no  edu- 
cated man,  unless  he  be  in  orders,  can  defend  with- 
out loss  to  his  reputation,  or  attack  with  any  gain 
to  it,  —  which  leave  scarce  a  trace  on  the  fiction,  the 
philosophy,  the  poetry  of  the  time,  and  would  be  si- 
lenced but  for  special  organs  which  they  have  cre- 
ated for  themselves,  —  which  openly  despair  of  their 
own  future,  unless  they  can  coerce  the  popular  edu- 
cation, —  have  manifestly  lost  their  living  hold  upon 
the  minds  of  men,  and  are  not  fit  to  represent  the 
religion  of  the  extant  generation.  On  this  point  we 
shall  discard  all  conventional  fastidiousness,  and 
plainly  state  where  we  think  the  Church  theory  of 
human  life  stands  in  hopeless  contradiction  to  the 
wants,  the  affections,  and  the  henceforth  ineradicable 
persuasions  of  the  human  soul. 

All  men  instinctively  feel  that  it  is  the  office  of 
religion  to  draw  them  upwards  by  helping  the  ten- 


310  MARTINEAU'S  MISCELLANIES. 

dencies  of  their  purest  veneration  and  their  worthiest 
love,  by  embodying  for  them  what  they  inwardly 
know  to  be  holiest,  and  reminding  them  of  what  they 
feel  to  be  best.  The  voice  of  prophet  or  of  Saviour 
is  ever  a  voice  of  sympathy  and  tenderness,  —  the 
sympathy,  indeed,  of  a  higher  nature,  the  tenderness 
of  a  diviner  sphere;  still,  however,  addressing  them, 
not  as  strangers  to  whom  the  idiom  of  heaven  is  like 
an  unknown  tongue,  but  as  kindred  in  unwilling  ex- 
ile, on  whose  forgetful  yet  unalienated  love  the  dear 
domestic  tones  will  fall  as  a  music  of  restoration. 
If  it  speaks  of  fears,  it  is  of  fears  whose  shadow  is 
already  on  the  heart;  if  it  denounces  guilt,  it  is  a 
guilt  that  sits  invisible  as  a  nightmare  on  men's 
dreams.  It  goes,  in  short,  direct  down  into  their 
consciousness,  and  deals  with  them  as  with  conge- 
nial beings  gifted  with  a  sacred  insight  which  they 
neglect  to  use.  It  professes  to  deposit  no  sanctity, 
like  an  incrustation  of  security,  upon  them  ;  but  elicits 
it  from  them,  like  colors  of  a  native  beauty  created  by 
the  touch  of  light.  The  Church  theology  makes  no 
such  appeal ;  talks  to  men,  not  of  what  they  ought 
to  know,  but  of  what  they  cannot  know ;  and  makes 
its  authority  depend,  not  on  its  true  interpretation  of 
the  oracles  of  living  souls,  but  on  the  pedigree  of 
manuscripts,  the  surmises  of  tradition,  and  the  slip- 
pery chain  of  episcopal  anointments.  Its  expound- 
ers assume  a  station  outside  the  human,  and  profess 
(like  the  sophists)  a  wisdom  beyond  the  apprehen- 
sion of  man, pelfa  riva  ff  K.O.T  av&panrov  (rofyiav* CX- 

*  Plat.  Apol.  Socr.  20.  D. 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  311 

pecting  no  sympathy  from  the  answering  heart,  but 
demanding  obedience  from  the  submissive  mind. 
In  their  mismanagement  —  as  ever  happens  when 
prophecy  is  dead  and  priesthood  lives —  Christianity 
becomes  a  threat ;  "  if  you  do  not  use  our  magic  and 
believe  our  mysteries,  '  without  doubt  you  shall  per- 
ish everlastingly.' "  Nor  is  this  the  accidental  fea- 
ture of  some  one  school  of  theology ;  it  is  a  common 
character  in  the  teachings  of  Tractarian  and  of  Evan- 
gelical, who  may  quarrel  about  the  means  of  grace, 
but  can  shake  hands  over  the  eternal  wrath.  From 
this  the  whole  economy  which  they  profess  to  ad- 
minister is  nothing  but  a  contrivance  for  escape. 
This  is  the  fundamental  postulate  from  which  the 
whole  scheme  is  developed,  which  dictates  all  its 
language  and  gives  meaning  to  all  its  forms.  The 
charming  away  of  this  infinite  curse  is  the  very  prob- 
lem which  the  Church  proposes  to  solve,  and  which 
is  held  to  justify  her  existence.  She  is  not  there  to 
make  good  citizens  and  good  men,  to  give  sanctity 
to  the  laws  of  obligation,  and  hope  to  sorrow  and 
pure  affection ;  but  distinctly  to  wash  out  of  them  a 
physical  poison,  and  save  them  from  the  tortures  of 
an  inexhaustible  vengeance.  And  this  tremendous 
end  she  refuses  to  accomplish,  except  on  conditions, 
which  the  wisest  may  be  unable  to  trust,  and  the 
most  faithful  may  scruple  to  accept.  For  who  can 
say  that  goodness  may  not  doubt  the  sacraments 
which  Clarkson  and  Elizabeth  Fry  disowned,  and 
purity  of  heart  reject  the  dogmas  which  Arnold  and 
Channing  never  held  ?  Either  what  the  Church  in- 
sists on  as  essential  are  not  essentials,  and  her  com- 


312  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

mission  to  dispense  them  comes  to  naught,  or  some 
of  the  best  of  men  and  most  saintly  of  women  are 
among  the  damned.  We  question  whether  any  one, 
professing  such  a  faith  as  this,  is  to  be  believed  up- 
on his  own  word.  He  professes  a  psychological  im- 
possibility. No  man,  who  would  himself  hesitate  to 
put  Channing  on  the  wheel,  and  object  to  burn  Mrs. 
Fry,  feeling  that  his  reluctance  comes  of  a  good 
heart,  can  believe  that  God  will  do  these  things  on 
a  scale  more  terrible. 

It  requires,  indeed,  no  great  insight  into  character 
to  discover,  that  any  reality  in  this  eternal  curse  and 
penalty  has  for  some  time  ceased.  In  proposing  to 
rescue  men  from  it,  the  Church  makes  an  offer  which 
no  one  cares  to  accept.  Have  our  lay  readers  ever 
practically  met  with  a  person,  —  not  under  remorse 
for  actual  and  heinous  sin, — who  wanted  to  be 
delivered  from  eternal  torment  ?  If  ever  a  man  does 
really  apprehend  such  a  thing  for  himself,  and  wring 
his  hands  and  fix  his  eye  in  wild -despair,  how  do  we 
deal  with  him  ?  Do  we  praise  the  clearness  of  his 
moral  diagnosis  and  the  logic  of  his  orthodoxy.?  Do 
we  refer  him  to  the  font  for  baptism,  or  the  keys  for 
absolution  ?  No :  we  send  him  to  the  physician 
rather  than  the  priest;  we  put  cold  sponges  on  his 
head,  and  bid  his  friends  look  after  him.  Nor  does 
his  doctrine  any  better  bear  application  to  the  per- 
sons around  us  than  to  ourselves.  If  we  sometimes 
act  and  speak  by  it,  we  never  feel,  and  rarely  think 
by  it.  Who  ever  knew  a  mother  despair  of  her  un- 
baptized  and  departed  child  ?  Let  it  only  be  con- 
sidered what  is  the  scene,  what  is  the  perspective, 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          313 

before  her  imagination,  if  she  be  at  once  sound  and 
sincere  in  the  faith  ;  and  it  must  be  owned  that  even 
her  most  passionate  grief  never  rises  to  the  pitch  of 
such  piercing  shrieks  as  she  would  hurl  into  the 
place  of  unutterable  agony.  The  whole  conduct  and 
demeanor  of  the  very  persons  who  defend  this  doc- 
trine afford  the  clearest  proof  that  it  is  incredible. 
The  late  Dr.  Hamilton,  of  Leeds,  wrote  a  book  to 
prove  that,  beyond  the  little  circle  of  choice  believers, 
the  universe  is  a  vast  torture  chamber ;  and  yet  a 
merrier  laugh,  a  more  exuberant  wit,  a  greater  geni- 
ality, was  rarely  to  be  found.  The  professional 
hours  of  his  life  were  spent,  like  those  of  some  old 
painters,  in  coloring  lurid  pictures  of  his  neighbors 
clutched  by  devils,  and  the  world  in  general  swal- 
lowing hot  pitch ;  and  for  the  rest  of  his  time  he 
was  free  to  dine  with  the  reprobates,  and  crack  his 
jokes  with  the  damned.  No  one,  who  seriously  con- 
siders the  intense  inconsistency  involved  in  such  a 
life,  can  suppose  that  the  theologian  really  held  a 
faith  which  the  grasp  of  a  friendly  hand  and  the 
welcome  on  a  familiar  face  sufficed  to  dissipate.  It 
is  the  same  throughout  the  whole  class  of  the  sin- 
cerest  and  most  faithful  Christians.  They  delude 
themselves  with  the  mere  fancy  and  image  of  a  be- 
lief. The  death  of  a  friend  who  departs  from  life  in 
heresy  affects  them  precisely  in  the  same  way  as  the 
loss  of  another  whose  creed  was  unimpeachable  : 
while  the  theoretic  difference  is  infinite,  the  practical 
is  virtually  nothing,  —  perhaps  a  sign  of  acquiescence 
in  the  clergyman's  official  compassion,  or  a  faint  de- 
sire that  it  had  been  otherwise  ;  but  not  half  the  dis- 
27 


314  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

tress  which  had  been  felt  when  the  same  friend  had 
broken  his  leg  and  lost  his  Pennsylvania  dividends. 
What  room,  indeed,  could  there  be  for  the  business, 
the  amusements,  the  contests  of  this  world,  if  it  re- 
flected from  every  salient  point  the  red  light  of  so 
horrible  a  background  ?  Who  could  spare  any  at- 
tention for  the  vicissitudes  of  cotton  and  the  price  of 
shares,  for  the  merits  of  the  last  opera,  and  the  bets 
upon  the  next  election,  if  the  actors  in  these  things 
were  really  swinging  in  his  eye  over  such  a  verge  as 
he  affects  to  see  ?  We  would  ask  any  clergyman 
who  reads  the  Athanasian  Creed,  How  can  you 
transact  your  daily  affairs  with  any  peace  of  mind  ? 
Your  coat  was  made  by  a  man  who  doubts  the  co- 
eternity  ;  your  grocer  thinks  the  Holy  Ghost  created ; 
you  pay  your  rent  to  a  landlord  who  confounds  the 
persons ;  and  your  fishmonger  divides  the  substance. 
If  you  found  any  of  these  with  his  house  on  fire, 
you  would  not  think  it  a  time  for  prosecuting  your 
business ;  you  see  him  in  a  greater  peril,  and  you 
coolly  inquire  about  sugars,  or  discuss  the  choice  of 
salmon  !  The  misfortune  is,  this  doctrine  is  in  some 
degree  protected  by  its  own  monstrous  character ; 
which  takes  it  so  sheer  out  of  all  nature,  that  it  can 
scarcely  be  confronted  with  reality.  If  we  apply  to 
it  such  tests  of  experience  as  would  suffice  in  other 
cases,  we  produce  results  (whose  startling  look  dis- 
tracts the  attention  from  their  logical  consequen- 
tiality ;  and  when  we  demand  from  men  a  life  in 
simple  accordance  with  their  profession,  the  thing 
itself  is  so  impossible  that  we  are  apt  to  seem  un- 
reasonable, and  become  charged  with  the  very  ex- 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  315 

travagance  which  we  impute.  It  is,  however,  no- 
torious that  a  large  number,  even  of  the  clergy,  are 
fully  conscious  of  their  unbelief  in  this  doctrine  ;  and 
among  the  educated  laity,  the  impression  is  general 
that  no  one,  except  here  and  there  a  dull  curate  or  a 
pugnacious  bishop,  is  sincere  in  his  assent  to  it. 
Will  it  not,  then,  be  got  rid  of?  Not  a  bit :  the  in- 
stinct of  ecclesiastical  cohesion,  and  the  passion  for 
nominal  unity,  will  outweigh  all  sense  of  human  ve- 
racity and  reverence  for  godly  simplicity ;  and  year 
after  year,  as  sure  as  the  Athanasian  festivals  come 
round,  thousands  of  clergymen  will  solemnly  profess, 
before  tens  of  thousands  of  assenting  people,  a  creed 
which  is  false  to  the  heart  of  alL  Depend  upon  it 
the  State  will  wake  up  to  a  sense  of  right  and  dig- 
nity in  this  matter  before  the  Church ;  and  the  honor 
of  politicians  grow  sensitive  to  the  blot,  while  yet 
the  conscience  of  divines  could  bear  a  longer  shame. 
Now,  we  need  not  undertake  to  decide  whether  the 
age  be  perverse,  or  the  doctrines  be  false.  We  only 
say  that  there  is  an  irreconcilable  variance  between 
them,  and  that  a  Church  which  represents  the  one 
does  not  exhibit  the  religion  of  the  other.  It  is  not 
just,  however,  to  affirm  that  the  modern  recoil  from 
the  stringent  forms  of  the  old  orthodoxy  is  the  result 
of  a  light  and  audacious  spirit.  On  the  contrary,  it 
manifestly  springs,  in  a  large  class  of  cases,  from  a 
profound  moral  earnestness.  They  who  are  deeply 
impressed  with  the  problems  of  positive  and  personal 
sin  are  not  likely  to  give  much  heed  to  the  talk  of  a 
latent  birth-sin ;  any  more  than,  in  the  awful  crisis 
of  a  fever,  they  would  consult  about  the  patient's 


316  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

chance  of  hereditary  gout.  It  is  the  reality  of  evil, 
the  living  sense  of  moral  conflict,  which  makes  faith- 
ful men  impatient  of  charms  against  a  bad  lineage, 
instead  of  help  against  a  strong  temptation :  what 
care  they  for  .the  loins  of  their  parents,  while  the 
battle  runs  high  between  the  better  and  the  worse  in 
their  own  souls  ?  Nay,  paradoxical  as  the  assertion 
may  appear,  this  deeper  feeling  of  inward  strife, 
which  marks  the  age,  renders  it  not  more  possible, 
but  much  less,  to  say  much  more  about  the  corrup- 
tion of  human  nature.  It  has  ceased  to  be  a  theory, 
scholastically  looked  at  from  the  outside ;  or  a  senti- 
mental formula,  dropping  from  the  lips  of  nurse- 
maids jilted  by  their  lovers,  or  squires  robbed  by 
their  butlers.  You  must  touch  it  with  discrimina- 
tion, for  its  meaning  is  known ;  and  with  its  truth, 
the  truth  also  of  its  opposite  has  been  discovered. 
It  is  impossible  for  a  man  to  find  his  ill  but  by  the 
perception  of  good ;  to  explore  his  darkness,  but  by 
an  eye  of  pure  vision  and  a  lamp  of  holy  light :  he 
cannot  loathe  the  wrong  without  aspiring  to  the  right, 
nor  combat  with  fiends  without  the  instinct  of  an 
angel.  His  self-consciousness  necessarily  reveals  to 
him  both  halves  of  his  nature  at  once,  and  disgusts 
him  henceforth  with  all  one-sided  doctrines,  — wheth- 
er the  Church  whines  to  him  about  human  depravity, 
or  Socinianism  repeats  its  platitudes  on  human  dig- 
nity. The  feeling  of  the  present  age  demands,  we 
are  convinced,  an  observance  of  this  just  equilibri- 
um :  the  dogma  must  adapt  itself  to  the  fulness  and 
refinement  of  modern  experience,  or  pass  away  as 
the  fiction  of  a  world  half  passionate  and  half  mo- 
nastic. 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          317 

The  interpretation  which  thoughtful  and  devout 
Churchmen  have  long  put  on  the  established  forms 
of  theological  expression  must  be  accepted.  By  the 
constitutional  corruption  of  man  they  commonly  un- 
derstand no  more  than  the  openness  to  evil  which  is 
inseparable  from  a  free  being,  —  Swa^u  of  sin  as  op- 
posed to  its  fvepyeta,  —  together  with  that  constant 
lagging  of  the  halting  will  behind  the  winged  desires 
which  humbles  us  to  seek  the  help  of  God.  This  is 
no  stain  which  faith  can  cleanse,  or  hands,  ordained 
to  sprinkle,  wash  away ;  but  an  integrant  part  of  our 
nature,  —  its  peril  and  its  glory,  — without  which  we 
could  serve  under  the  bondage  of  no  law,  and  win 
the  freedom  of  no  gospel.  And  a  meaning  far  dif- 
ferent from  the  historical  definition  of  divines  is  cur- 
rently given  to  the  word  salvation,  —  a  word,  how- 
ever, which,  after  every  softening,  is  not  sincerely 
congenial  with  the  highest  religion  of  the  time.  Its 
direct  opposition  to  damnation  is  very  much  lost ; 
and,  instead  of  denoting  mere  rescue  from  a  penal 
doom,  it  is  accepted  as  an  expression  for  personal 
union  with  God,  spiritual  perfectness  of  character; 
or,  without  reference  to  any  penal  alternative,  the 
simple  attainment  of  a  blessed  and  immortal  state. 
These  changes  are  the  inevitable  results  of  more 
humane  and  more  trustful  thought,  trying  to  embody 
itself  in  forms  selected  by  a  sterner  and  a  coarser 
time.  Let  the  Church  be  reconciled  to  them,  and 
adopt  them.  Though  they  change  the  logical  basis 
of  its  theology,  they  preserve  whatever  can  endure 
in  its  religion.  Nothing  is  more  dangerous  to  faith, 
more  surely  fatal  in  the  end,  than  to  press  with 
27* 


318  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

rigor  the  forms  of  dogma  which  have  begun  to  bind 
and  hurt  the  soul.  Prove  as  you  may  that  they 
would  sit  quite  easy  but  for  the  perverse  writhing 
and  resistance  within,  the  band  has  discovered  itself 
to  be  unyielding,  and  from  that  instant  it  is  the  very 
function  of  life  to  take  alarm,  and  either  make  it 
pliant  or  throw  it  off.  It  is  as  if  you  tried  to  argue 
back  the  alienated  love  of  those  who  once  were  of 
one  heart,  but  have  diverged  into  uncongenial  tastes 
and  admirations.  The  more  stringent  your  demon- 
stration that  they  ought  to  feel  as  of  old,  the  more 
impossible  do  you  make  it :  your  substantial  failure 
is  proportioned  to  your  formal  success.  Religion, 
like  poetry,  is  a  life,  a  spirit,  that  must  find  its  own 
forms  by  development  from  within,  and  cannot  be 
moulded  by  external  constriction;  and  the  larger 
freedom  you  have  courage  to  allow,  the  less  will  you 
have  to  regret  irregularity  and  distortion ;  for  it  has 
inherently  a  tendency  to  order  and  beauty,  only  de- 
termined, not  by  authoritative  mechanism,  but  by 
the  rhythm  and  symmetry  of  the  affections  them- 
selves. 

Every  devout  era  has  been  marked  by  a  free  en- 
thusiasm, unconscious  of  reluctant  beliefs,  or  boldly 
disengaging  itself  from  them.  From  such  a  time 
the  descent  to  an  age  of  dogmatic  construction  is 
deep ;  to  that  of  dogmatic  reconstruction,  is  final. 
From  the  period  of  St.  Paul  to  that  of  Eusebius, 
what  an  infinite  declension  in  every  thing  that  should 
be  dear  to  Christian  man !  In  both,  diversity  of  the- 
ology abounded;  nor  in  intellectual  conception  of 
the  objects  of  faith  did  the  rival  creeds  of  subsequent 


THE  CHURCH  OP  ENGLAND.  319 

times  stand  in  stronger  contrast  than  the  Judaic  and 
Gentile  Christianities,  the  doctrines  of  faith  and 
works,  the  Logos  and  the  Son-of-David  theories  of 
the  Messiah,  the  Palestinian  demonology  and  Alex- 
andrine spiritualism,  which  lie  harmoniously  togeth- 
er within  the  compass  of  the  New  Testament  itself. 
No  greater  difference  separated  Jerome  and  Rufinus, 
Theophilus  and  Chrysostom,  Augustine  and  Pela- 
gius,  than  is  found  between  the  theocratic  doctrine 
of  Mark's  Gospel  and  the  mystic  depth  of  John's ;  or 
between  James,  the  apostle  of  ethics,  and  St.  Paul, 
the  champion  of  faith.  But  the  first  age  was  in- 
spired with  intense  affections ;  the  other  was  with- 
ered up  with  dry  contentions.  In  the  one,  Christian- 
ity was  a  breathing  faith ;  in  the  other,  a  dialectic 
exercise.  The  one  had  a  creative  soul,  the  other  a 
critical  understanding;  and  while  the  former,  rich  in 
various  populations,  out  of  its  differences  produced 
unconscious  theologies,  the  latter  out  of  its  theol- 
ogies produced  only  conscious  differences.  Divisions 
without  end,  and  passions  without  check,  have  been 
the  invariable  result  of  ecclesiastic  legislation  for 
unity  and  peace.  It  brings  with  it  strong  delusion 
and  a  corrupting  poison  into  the  clerical  mind ;  be- 
wildering its  perception  of  the  proportions  of  things, 
and  confounding  the  solemn  and  the  frivolous ;  where 
mystery  is  deepest,  raising  highest  the  conceit  of 
knowledge ;  where  forbearance  is  most  due,  remov- 
ing all  restraints  from  anger ;  where  penalty  can 
least  avail,  applying  it  with  cruellest  force ;  substitut- 
ing the  pleader's  arts  for  the  disciple's  simplicity, 
and  the  sophist's  pride  for  the  saint's  meekness. 


320  MAKTINEAU's     MISCELLANIES. 

The  organization  of  dogma  is  symptomatic  of  the 
dissolution  of  faith  ;  it  is  an  unwholesome  mushroom 
growth  from  the  rotting  leaves  now  fallen  from  the 
tree  of  life.  That  blessed  foliage  feeds  it,  no  doubt; 
only  not  from  the  vital  sap,  but  from  the  juices  of 
decay.  It  is  bad  enough  that  the  Church  should 
have  inherited  her  chief  formulas  of  belief  from  such 
an  age  and  such  a  reign  as  that  of  Constantine; 
a  reign  hideous  with  guilt ;  an  age  so  surrendered  to 
depraved  morals  and  misdirected  intellect,  that,  if 
ever  there  could  be  in  Christendom  an  incapacity  for 
discerning  spiritual  truth,  it  must  have  been  then. 
But  to  make  such  a  time  the  rule  for  all  others,  —  to 
dignify  by  the  name  of  "  the  Catholic  faith  "  the  prop- 
ositions which  emerged  from  its  wranglings,  by  out- 
voting or  outreaching  the  rest;  to  scorn,  in  compar- 
ison, the  light  of  recent  thought,  and  constrain  the 
modern  Englishman  to  put  back  the  index  of  his 
Christian  consciousness  to  the  hour  when  Athanasius 
triumphed,  —  is  a  weak  rebellion  against  providential 
tendencies,  and  an  irreligious  scepticism  of  God's 
perpetual  inspiration.  If,  by  a  liberal  interpretation, 
or,  better,  a  complete  revision  of  the  technical  phrase- 
ology of  doctrine,  the  bands  of  creed  be  not  relaxed, 
the  Church  must  either  descend  to  the  rank  of  a  sect, 
or  become  a  vast  hypocrisy  ;  pretending  to  unity,  yet 
torn  by  divisions  ;  representing  the  faith  of  the  coun- 
try, yet  sheltering  its  unbelief;  the  symbol  of  piety, 
yet  a  storehouse  of  unveracity ;  the  nominal  head 
of  all  our  culture,  yet  sworn  to  the  words  of  an  age 
that  had  none  of  it.  How  long  will  educated  Eng- 
lishmen bear  patiently  the  injurious  decree  of  eccle- 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  321 

siastics  ?  "  You  shall  not  be  religious,  except  on 
conditions  impossible  to  the  understanding!"  It  is 
notorious  that  the  present  time  is  prolific  beyond  all 
that  have  preceded  it  in  honest  varieties  of  devout 
belief;  and  for  a  Church  pretending  to  the  affections 
of  such  a  time,  and  comprising  among  her  honored 
names  Sewell  and  Milman,  Hare  and  Close,  to  insist 
upon  the  inflexible  standard  of  doctrine,  presents  a 
singular  aspect  of  infatuation  and  insincerity. 

The  prevalent  alienation  from  the  stereotyped  sys- 
tem of  Church  dogma  is  by  no  means  confined,  we 
believe,  to  the  points  on  which  we  have  touched. 
Men,  we  have  said,  do  not  want  to  be  "saved"  from 
an  "  eternal  torment"  which  has  no  hold  upon  their 
faith ;  or  to  escape,  by  ritual  exorcism,  a  congenital 
curse  which  frightens  them  no  more.  They  do,  how- 
ever, want  to  be  helped  into  a  conscious  peace  with 
God,  and  a  pure  fidelity  of  life.  Much  as  we  hear 
from  divines  of  the  pride  and  self-righteousness  which 
oppose  the  reception  of  their  doctrines,  and  freely  as 
we  admit  the  operation  of  moral  causes  like  these  on 
the  aptitudes  for  faith,  we  deny  the  general  applica- 
bility of  this  imputation;  and  are  prepared  to  vin- 
dicate the  humility  and  devoutness  of  a  large  and 
increasing  class  of  doubting  and  dissatisfied  Church- 
men. They  are  not  less  sensible  than  others  of  the 
delusions  of  heart  and  decrepitude  of  will,  by  which 
they  fall  away  from  the  life  to  which  they  aspire, 
and  in  which  alone  they  can  be  in  harmony  with 
God ;  and  they  have  no  higher  wish  than  to  find  a 
mediator  of  this  contradiction,  and  rise  into  the  free- 
dom of  reconciled  affections.  But  the  mechanism 


322  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

provided  for  this  end,  in  the  dogmas  of  the  Church, 
has  lost  its  efficacy  upon  all  the  higher  class  of 
minds,  and  wields  no  longer  any  worthy  power  over 
the  lower.  The  forensic  scheme  of  vicarious  atone- 
ment is  too  probably  at  variance  with  the  habitual 
moral  sentiments  of  men,  to  command  the  old  rever- 
ential assent;  too  manifestly  conceived  in  the  arti- 
ficial style  of  legal  fiction,  to  suit  a  people  ever  eager 
to  ground  themselves  on  some  veracious  reality.  It 
is  useless  for  the  preacher  to  treat  the  repugnance  of 
reason  and  affection  to  this  doctrine,  as  the  sign  of 
a  graceless  heart.  His  hearers  know  better,  and  are 
fully  conscious  that  the  protest  comes  not  from  their 
lower  passions,  but  from  their  highest  discernment ; 
from  indignation  that  the  dealings  of  the  Infinite 
should  be  described  in  the  language  of  debtor  and 
creditor,  and  the  universe,  as  the  theatre  of  responsi- 
ble existence,  be  degraded  into  the  likeness  of  a  bank- 
ruptcy court.  They  feel,  moreover,  that  to  accept 
the  offer  of  such  a  doctrine  would  be  unworthy  of  a 
noble  heart ;  for  he  who  would  not  rather  be  damned 
than  escape  through  the  sufferings  of  innocence  and 
sanctity  is  so  far  from  the  qualifications  of  a  saint, 
that  he  has  not  even  the  magnanimity  of  Milton's 
fiends.  We  are  spared,  however,  the  necessity  of 
stating  the  objections  which  we  know  to  be  widely 
felt  to  this  doctrine,  as  it  appears  in  the  Church  for- 
mulas ;  for  the  following  remarks,  by  an  orthodox  cler- 
gyman, present  them  with  a  force  and  clearness  that 
leave  nothing  to  be  desired.  The  writer  divides  the 
views  prevalent  upon  this  subject  into  two  classes : 
the  first  representing  the  death  of  Christ  as  a  literal 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  323 

substitution  of  evil  endured,  for  evil  that  else  would 
have  to  be  endured ;  the  other  holding  it  as  an  ex- 
pression of  abhorrence  to  sin,  made  through  the  suf- 
ferings of  one,  in  place  of  the  same  expression  that 
was  to  be  made  by  the  suffering  of  many.  In  ref- 
erence to  the  former  class  of  representations  he 
says : — 

"  We  may  say,  comprehensively,  that  they  are  capable, 
one  and  all,  of  no  light  in  which  they  do  not  even  offend 
some  right  moral  sentiment  of  our  being.  Indeed,  they  raise 
up  moral  objections  with  such  marvellous  fecundity,  that  we 
can  hardly  state  them  as  fast  as  they  occur  to  us. 

"  Thus,  if  evil  remitted  must  be  repaid  by  an  equivalent, 
what  real  economy  is  there  in  the  transaction  ?  What  is 
effected  save  the  transfer  of  penal  evil  from  the  guilty  to 
the  innocent  ?  And  if  the  great  Redeemer,  in  the  excess 
of  his  goodness,  consents,  freely  offers  himself  to  the  Father, 
or  to  God,  to  receive  the  penal  woes  of  the  world  in  his  own 
person,  what  does  it  signify,  when  that  offer  is  accepted,  but 
that  God  will  have  his  modicum  of  suffering  somehow,  if 
he  lets  the  guilty  go,  —  will  yet  satisfy  himself  out  of  the 
innocent?  In  which  the  divine  government,  instead  of 
clearing  itself,  assumes  the  double  ignominy,  first,  of  letting 
the  guilty  go,  and  secondly,  of  accepting  the  sufferings  of 
innocence !  In  which  Calvin,  seeing  no  difficulty,  is  still 
able  to  say,  when  arguing  for  Christ's  three  days  in  hell,  '  it 
was  requisite  that  he  should  feel  the  severity  of  the  divine 
vengeance,  in  order  to  appease  the  wrath  of  God,  and  satisfy 
his  justice.'  I  confess  my  inability  to  read  this  kind  of 
language  without  a  sensation  of  horror;  for  it  is  not  the 
half-poetic,  popular  language  of  Scripture,  but  the  cool, 
speculative  language  of  theoiy,  as  concerned  with  the  rea- 
son of  God's  penal  distributions. 


324  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

"  And  yet  this  objection  is  aggravated,  if  possible,  by 
another  representation,  that  Christ  did  not  suffer  willingly, 
or  by  consent,  save  in  the  sense  that  he  obeyed  the  com- 
mand by  which  it  was  laid  upon  him  to  suffer.  Thus,  a 
distinguished  American  writer,  in  his  treatise  on  this  sub- 
ject, written  only  thirty  years  ago,  says,  '  The  Father 
must  command  him  to  die,  or  the  stroke  would  not  be  from 
his  own  hand,'  carrying  still  the  analogy  of  punishment  so 
far  as  to  suppose  that,  like  all  penal  inflictions,  Christ  must 
die  under  '  authority '  of  God,  in  order  that  his  death  should 
have  any  theologic  value.  It  is  of  no  moment  to  ask,  in 
this  connection,  what  becomes  of  the  deity  of  the  Son, 
when  he  is  thus  under  the  authority  of  the  Father ;  for  he 
is  not  merely  under  it,  as  being  in  the  flesh,  as  the  Scrip- 
tures speak,  but  it  is  '  authority '  that  sends  him  into  the 
flesh.  To  profess  the  real  and  proper  deity  of  Christ,  in 
such  a  connection,  is  only  to  use  words  as  instruments  of 
:self-deception.  His  deity,  after  all,  is  not  believed,  and 
cannot  be  where  such  a  doctrine  is  held. 

"  Again,  it  is  a  fatal  objection  to  this  view,  that  it  sets 
every  transgressor  right  before  the  law,  when,  as  yet,  there 
is  nothing  right  in  his  character ;  producing,  if  we  view  it 
constructively,  and  not  historically  (for  historic  and  specu- 
lative results  do  not  always  agree),  the  worst  conceivable 
form  of  licentiousness.  For  if  the  terms  of  the  law  are 
satisfied,  the  transgressor  has  it  for  his  right  to  go  free, 
whether  he  forsake  his  transgressions  or  not.  As  far  as 
any  mere  claims  of  law  or  justice  are  concerned,  he  may 
challenge  impunity  for  all  the  wrongs  he  has  committed, 
shall  commit,  or  can  commit  while  his  breath  remains !  " 

*  God  in  Christ.  Three  Discourses,  delivered  at  New  Haven, 
Cambridge,  and  Andover,  with  a  Preliminary  Dissertation  on  Lan- 
guage. By  Horace  Bushnell.  (Hartford,  Connecticut,  1849.)  p.  195. 


THE    CHURCH    OF    ENGLAND. 


325 


In  such  trenchant  manner  does  a  Presbyterian  di- 
vine, in  a  book  written  to  defend  the  Trinitarian 
theology,  deal  with  the  favorite  Evangelical  topic. 
We  do  not  profess,  with  our  Boeotian  apprehension 
of  dogmatic  subtilties,  to  perceive  the  essential  dis- 
tinction between  the  opinion  thus  criticized  and 
what  he  calls  "  the  second  and  more  mitigated  class 
of  orthodox  opinions,"  namely,  those  which  make 
the  efficacy  of  Christ's  death  consist,  not  in  what  it 
is,  but  in  what  it  expresses.  Between  a  substituted 
"  punishment,"  and  a  substituted  "  expression  of  ab- 
horrence for  sin,"  we  can  find  nothing  but  a  verbal 
difference;  seeing  that  only  by  being  punishment 
would  it  express  any  thing  against  sin,  or  replace  as 
a  substitute,  with  equivalent  functions,  the  great  pe- 
nal scene  of  the  universe.  "We  suppose,  however, 
that  a  practised  theological  vision  can  detect  some 
valid  distinction  where  it  evades  the  ordinary  eye- 
sight. Dr.  Bushnell,  while  paying  a  higher  respect 
to  the  second  hypothesis,  visits  it,  notwithstanding, 
with  the  following  decisive  judgment:  — 

"  This  latter  seems  to  accord  with  the  former  view,  in 
supposing  that  Christ  suffers  evil  as  evil,  or  as  a  penal  visi- 
tation of  God's  justice,  only  doing  it  in  a  less  painful  de- 
gree ;  that  is,  suffering  so  much  of  evil  as  will  suffice,  con- 
sidering the  dignity  of  his  person,  to  express  the  same 
amount  of  abhorrence  to  sin  that  would  be  expressed  by  the 
eternal  punishment  of  all  mankind.  I  confess  my  inability 
to  see  how  an  innocent  being  could  ever  be  set,  even  for 
one  moment,  in  an  attitude  of  displeasure  under  God.  If 
He  could  lay  his  frown  for  one  moment  on  the  soul  of  inno- 
cence and  virtue,  He  must  be  no  such  being  as  I  have  loved 
28 


326  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

and  worshipped.  Much  less  can  I  imagine  that  He  should 
lay  it  on  the  head  of  one  whose  nature  is  itself  coequal 
Deity.  Does  any  one  say  that  He  will  do  it  for  public  gov- 
ernmental reasons  ?  No  governmental  reasons,  I  answer, 
can  justify  even  the  admission  of  innocence  into  a  participa- 
tion of  frowns  and  penal  distributions.  If  consenting  in- 
nocence says, '  Let  the  blow  fall  on  me,'  precisely  there  is  it 
for  a  government  to  prove  its  justice,  even  to  the  point  of 
sublimity ;  to  reveal  the  essential,  eternal,  unmitigable  dis- 
tinction it  holds  between  innocence  and  sin,  by  declaring 
that,  as  under  law  and  its  distributions,  it  is  even  impossi- 
ble to  suffer  any  commutation,  any  the  least  confusion  of 
places. 

"  All  the  analogies  invented  or  brought  from  actual  his- 
tory to  clear  the  point  are  manifestly  worthless.  If  Zaleu- 
cus,  for  example,  instead  of  enforcing  the  statute  against 
his  son  which  required  the  destruction  of  both  his  eyes, 
thinks  to  satisfy  the  law  by  putting  out  one  of  his  own  eyes 
and  one  of  his  son's,  he  only  practises  a  very  unintelligent 
fraud  upon  the  law,  under  pretext  of  a  conscientiously  lit- 
eral enforcement  of  it.  The  statute  did  not  require  the  loss 
of  two  eyes  ;  if  it  had,  the  two  eyes  of  a  dog  would  have 
sufficed  ;  but  it  required  the  two  eyes  of  a  criminal,  —  that 
he,  as  a  wrongdoer,  should  be  put  into  darkness.  If  the 
father  had  consented  to  have  both  his  own  eyes  put  out  in- 
stead of  his  son's,  it  might  have  been  very  kind  of  him ; 
but  to  speak  of  it  as  public  justice,  or  as  any  proper  vindi- 
cation of  law,  would  be  impossible.  The  real  truth  signi- 
fied would  be,  that  Zaleucus  loved  public  justice  too  little,  in 
comparison  with  his  exceeding  fondness  for  his  son,  to  let 
the  law  have  its  course ;  and  yet,  as  if  the  law  stood  upon 
getting  two  eyes,  apart  from  all  justice,  had  too  many  scru- 
ples to  release  the  sin,  without  losing  the  two  eyes  of  the 
body,  as  before  he  had  lost  the  eyes  of  his  reason. 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          327 

"According  to  the  supposition,  the  problem  here  is  to 
produce  an  expression  of  abhorrence  to  sin,  through  the  suf- 
ferings of  Christ,  in  place  of  another,  through  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  guilty.  Now  the  truth  of  the  latter  expression 
consists  in  the  fact,  that  there  is  an  abhorrence  in  God  to 
be  expressed.  But  there  is  no  such  abhorrence  in  God 
towards  Christ;  and  therefore,  if  the  external  expression  of 
Christ's  sufferings  has  no  correspondent  feeling  to  be  ex- 
pressed, where  lies  the  truth  of  the  expression  ?  And  if 
the  frown  of  God  lies  upon  his  soul,  as  we  often  hear,  in 
the  garden  and  on  the  cross,  how  can  the  frown  of  God, 
falling  on  the  soul  of  innocence,  express  any  truth  or  any 
feeling  of  justice  ?  "  * 

After  such  a  verdict  as  this,  pronounced  by  an  or- 
thodox divine,  distinguished  alike  by  genius  and 
moderation,  who  can  wonder  at  the  aversion  with 
which  noble  and  cultivated  minds  recoil  from  the 
so-called  "  economy  of  salvation  "  ?  Of  the  feeling 
which  its  technical  phraseology  produces,  the  acute 
and  refined  Tractarian  leaders  are  well  aware ;  and 
one  of  their  earliest  aims  was  to  withdraw  this  doc- 
trine from  open  publication,  under  pretence  that  it 
was  too  sacred  a  mystery  to  be  more  than  whispered 
in  the  sanctuary.  If  it  was  obtruded  upon  unpre- 
pared minds,  it  was  said,  it  might  be  extremely  dan- 
gerous ;  for  the  secret  treasures  of  God  were  not  al- 
ways to  be  shown;  a  vain  display  of  them  before 
the  eye  of  the  unregenerate  might  have  serious  con- 
sequences; all  holy  things,  in  proportion  as  they 
were  springs  of  life  to  the  faithful,  were  of  awful 

*  See  "  Tracts  for  the  Times,"  Nos.  80  and  87,  especially  Part  V. 
sec.  3. 


328  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

peril  to  the  unprepared.  Better  would  it  be  if  the 
"  stewards  of  the  mysteries "  would  reserve  this 
truth  deeply  in  the  shade,  and  adopt  respecting  it 
the  "  disciplina  arcani"  What  could  be  more  covert 
than  our  Lord's  own  dealing  with  it  ?  Is  it  not  a  la- 
tent presence  in  his  teachings,  never  prominently  and 
explicitly  declared?  And  it  is  ever  most  effectual- 
ly impressed  on  others  by  silent  implication,  and  the 
"instruction  of  a  penitent  and  merciful  demeanor," 
rather  than  by  being  "  proclaimed,  as  it  were,  in  the 
market-place,"  and  opened  to  all  indiscriminately.* 
Now,  let  it  be  remembered  whence  this  curious 
pleading  comes;  and  that  all  the  writings  of  its 
class  must  be  read  shrewdly,  like  a  paper  from  the 
foreign  office ;  for  the  Tractarians,  as  God's  ambas- 
sadors at  the  court  of  Human  Nature,  have  intro- 
duced a  most  diplomatic  spirit  into  the  divinity  pro- 
pounded there  :  let  this  be  remembered,  and  the  real 
motive  for  converting  the  warmth  of  the  atonement 
doctrine  into  a  latent  heat  will  not  be  far  to  seek, 
Left  to  radiate  at  large,  it  produced  a  shrinking  of 
the  mind,  a  withering  sense  of  blight  to  the  moral 
sentiments,  which  endangered  the  whole  Church 
scheme ;  and  if  any  lofty  and  tender  souls  were  to 
be  retained  in  allegiance  to  it  at  all,  this  dogma 
must  be  taken  out  of  the  mouth  of  popular  declaim- 
ers,  thrown  back  into  secrecy,  and  committed  to 
sacraments  of  solemn  look  and  silent  form. 

In  rebuking  this  Jesuitry,  the  Evangelical  clergy 
have  certainly  all  the  honesty  on  their  side.     But  in 

*  Bushnell,  p.  199. 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          329 

practising  it,  the  Tractarians  rightly  interpret,  we 
believe,  the  alienated  feelings  of  a  class  of  men, 
without  whose  sympathy  and  convictions  no  Church 
can  remain  rational,  no  theology  respectable,  and  no 
religion  above  the  taint  of  gross  superstition.  There 
is  no  way,  however,  of  preserving  or  of  recovering 
their  sympathy,  or  any  sympathy  by  which  religion 
can  profit,  but  by  perfect  simplicity  and  truth.  No 
management,  no  suppression,  can  serve  the  end  ;  the 
guilt  and  discredit  of  artifice  are  spent  only  in  the 
purchase  of  failure.  It  is  not  by  manoeuvring  peo- 
ple back  into  persuasions  from  which  they  have  in 
heart  emerged,  but  by  urging  the  Church  forward,  to 
comprehend  and  interpret  their  ennobled  affections, 
that  the  forfeited  harmony  can  be  restored.  The 
shadow  on  the  dial  of  history  cannot  be  coaxed 
back.  Lost  positions  in  the  movements  of  the  hu- 
man mind  are  never  recovered,  and  in  the  oscilla- 
tions of  faith  no  reaction  ever  touches  the  old  points 
and  reproduces  the  same  attitudes  of  thought.  The 
same  subjective  tendency  may  undoubtedly  recur 
after  long  sleep,  but  it  finds  a  new  set  of  objective 
conditions  forbidding  the  re-creation  of  the  past ;  as 
a  south  wind  that  has  blown  in  spring  may  set  in 
again  with  the  late  summer ;  but,  as  it  falls  on  a  dif- 
ferent season,  it  will  open  a  fresh  set  of  flowers. 
No  doubt  the  recoil  from  the  Protestant  integration 
of  Churches  has  impressed  upon  the  present  age  a 
Catholic  aspiration ;  an  admiration  for  the  unity 
which  we  have  lost.  But  this  feeling  is  simply  in- 
sulted by  offering  to  its  imitation  the  mediaeval  Ro- 
manism. Aspiration  cannot  imitate ;  it  must  cre- 
28* 


330  .    MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

ate ;  and  whatever  unity  may  yet  arise  in  Christen- 
dom will  be  no  less  different  from  any  thing  we  have 
yet  known  than  the  factory  from  the  monastery,  the 
locomotive  from  the  packhorse,  or  the  Times  news- 
paper from  the  illuminated  manuscript.  Above  all, 
fellowship  must  be  sought,  not  by  exclusion,  but  by 
inclusion;  not  by  enforcement  of  dogma,  but  by 
sympathy  of  spirit ;  not  by  suppression  of  individu- 
ality, but  by  development  of  it,  till  its  contrarieties 
drop  away,  and  it  yields  up  Catholicity  of  faith  as  a 
product  of  unity  of  nature.  The  "  bond  of  the  spir- 
it" sufficed,  without  metaphysical  definitions,  for 
the  disciples  in  the  age  of  the  Apostles;  and  every 
Church  which  fears  to  trust  its  guidance  is  self-con- 
victed of  being  non-apostolic. 

Perhaps  the  most  positive  divergence  of  the  age 
from  the  Church  is  to  be  traced  in  their  irreconcila- 
ble notions  of  what  is  best  in  human  character. 
Their  admirations  are  not  simply  different,  but  op- 
posite. The  life  which  appears  noble  and  great  to 
the  mechanic,  the  merchant,  the  statesman,  is  un- 
holy in  sacerdotal  eyes;  the  heroes  of  modern  fic- 
tion and  biography  are  unconsecrate  according  to 
the  measure  of  theology;  and  against  that  which 
the  newspaper  praises  the  sermon  lifts  its  voice. 
Nor  is  this  discordance  at  all  concurrent  with  the 
old  quarrel  between  "  flesh  and  spirit "  ;  the  low,  self- 
seeking  desires,  and  the  reverent  faithfulness  of  the 
human  heart.  It  is  an  honest  and  an  earnest  differ- 
ence in  the  moral  tastes  and  standard  of  the  devout 
ecclesiastic  and  the  devout  layman.  If  a  Massillon 
or  a  Barrow  denounced  from  the  pulpit  the  corrup- 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          331 

tions  of  his  age,  the  rake  and  the  hypocrite  who  lis- 
tened were  either  pricked  in  conscience  at  his  words, 
or  else  aware  of  being  too  far  gone  for  scruple  and 
contrition.  But  the  modern  invectives  against  the 
world  and  its  ways  carry  with  them  no  piercing  re- 
proach ;  the  state  of  mind  extolled  as  spiritual  is  felt 
to  be  only  ecclesiastical:  it  kindles  no  affection, 
rouses  no  sacred  ambition ;  at  best,  it  is  only  looked 
at  from  without  as  a  quaint  old  picture,  romantic  to 
see  on  the  dead  wall  of  time,  and  no  man  is  eager 
to  present  himself  in  its  likeness  on  the  Exchange  or 
St.  Stephen's.  We  have  reached  a  time  when  the 
broad  chasm  between  the  Church  and  the  world  can- 
not be  kept  open ;  and  we  must  have  something  to 
mediate  between  the  natural  conscience  and  the 
Christian  life.  The  theory  which  entirely  removes 
Christianity  from  contact  and  sympathy  with  the 
common  springs  of  human  action  and  movements  of 
human  affection,  —  which  treats  it  as  a  hypernatu- 
ral  grace  superinduced  from  without,  —  necessarily 
creates  a  type  of  unnatural  and  unmoral  goodness, 
incapable  of  being  sustained  in  the  permanent  ad- 
miration of  mankind ;  and  then  the  Church,  while 
abandoning  in  despair,  as  a  piece  of  doomed  corrup- 
tion, the  real  and  living  nature  which  to  a  pure  cul- 
ture would  yield  the  noblest  fruits,  fails  to  impart 
any  better  inspiration. 

Whoever  persuades  himself  that,  in  the  awards  of 
another  world,  there  are  to  be  two  grand  classes, 
separated  by  all  that  can  render  contrast  terrible, 
and  that  already,  as  they  walk  the  streets,  men  bear 
upon  them  the  sealing  grace  or  the  cursing  brand, 


332  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

will  not  be  content  to  see  them  look  so  like  each 
other.  He  will  ignore  the  visible  lights  and  shades 
of  genuine  character,  to  dwell  upon  mystic  and  view- 
less distinctions.  Religion  is  not  equivalent  with 
him  to  a  pure  mind  and  an  harmonious  character, 
and  may  even  tend  to  distort  the  conscience  and 
misapply  the  energy  of  the  will.  It  sets  itself  up, 
apart  from  morals,  as  a  separate  business,  involving 
a  distinct  series  of  acts,  and  rather  eclipsing  all  finite 
relations  than  glorifying  them  to  infinitude.  The 
heavenly  frame  of  soul  which  must  be  sought  is  not 
simply  the  best  and  highest  spirit  applicable  to  the 
worldly  work  of  the  hour,  but  something  above  all 
worldly  work ;  something  that  feels  the  very  contact 
of  such  affairs  as  a  mean  distraction,  and  that  aims 
to  sit  aloof  from  them  in  higher  contemplations. 
The  one  thing  needful  in  its  estimate  is,  to  keep  up 
in  the  mind,  in  a  state  of  vivid  excitement,  a  certain 
limited  set  of  thoughts  and  emotions,  which  are 
taken  as  signs  of  communion  with  the  Spirit.  The 
great  business  of  life  is  to  perpetuate,  not  the  uncon- 
scious influence,  but  the  conscious  presence,  of  these 
sentiments ;  whatever  suffers,  they  must  be  watched, 
preserved,  stimulated  to  greater  intensity ;  every  thing 
is  valued  solely  by  its  tendency  to  suggest  these 
ideas,  or  to  burnish  them  again  when  they  have  be- 
come dull  within  the  heart.  This  is  adopted  as  the 
test  of  right  and  wrong;  and  the  most  injudicious 
efforts  of  zeal  are  approved,  if  they  do  but  deepen 
the  essential  sentiments:  while  no  employment  of 
the  understanding  can  be  so  noble,  no  sympathy  so 
pure,  no  pleasure  so  innocent,  no  duty  so  worthy  of 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          333 

our  humanity,  as  to  escape  condemnation,  if  it  tend 
to  withdraw  the  mind  from  its  prescribed  medita- 
tions, and  melt  its  rigid  catalepsy  of  thought.  Hence 
the  first  place  in  the  rank  of  obligations  is  given  to 
acts  of  devotion  ;  and  the  devotee  lives  that  he  may 
learn  to  pray,  instead  of  praying  that  he  may  learn 
to  live.  The  excitement  of  the  Church  becomes 
more  welcome  than  the  drudgery  of  the  home ;  a 
higher  relish  is  found  in  a  transport  than  in  a  duty ; 
the  simple  pleasure,  the  unpretending  moralities,  the 
secular  utilities  of  life,  let  down  the  mind  to  a  pitch 
too  low  for  saintship ;  and  those  who  cannot  always 
be  strung  up  to  the  spiritual  point,  but  who  are  care- 
ful to  do  the  duty  that  lies  nearest  to  them ;  those 
who,  by  the  spontaneity  of  a  pure  conscience,  do 
good  without  a  thought  of  self,  and  give  the  cup  of 
cold  water,  not  in  order  to  be  divinely  meek,  but  in 
order  to  assuage  a  human  suffering ;  those  who  re- 
fresh family  and  neighbors  by  the  perennial  flow  of 
delicious  sympathies,  without  knowing  that  they 
have  any  themselves,  —  encounter  the  contempt  of 
these  peculiar  people  of  God.  Detaching  religion 
from  morality,  they  concentrate  their  whole  anxiety 
on  the  performance  of  acts  having  exclusive  refer- 
ence to  God,  and  an  abstinence  from  others  which 
have  no  further  guilt  than  that  of  preoccupying  the 
mind,  which  is  to  be  left  vacant  as  his  temple. 

In  the  highest  minds  religion  has  no  separate  du- 
ties of  its  own,  but  is  the  spirit  which  should  impreg- 
nate all  duty  :  it  changes  the  direction  of  no  obliga- 
tion, but  gives  intensity  to  the  force  of  all :  it  has  no 
rivalry  with  any  pure  affection,  but  befriends  and 


334  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

consecrates  them  all.  Under  its  influence,  therefore, 
life  is  not  essentially  changed  in  character,  but  sim- 
ply hopes  more,  loves  more,  aspires  more.  This 
view  alone  can  save  religion  from  degenerating  into 
morbidness  and  superstition ;  but  it  arranges  men 
too  much  by  the  natural  groupings  of  character,  and 
melts  away  too  completely  the  great  eternal  classifi- 
cation, to  suit  the  priesthood  intrusted  with  the 
power  of  the  keys.  The  Church  is  committed  to  a 
Manichean  theory  of  the  phenomena  of  life,  and 
binds  herself  to  detect  in  it  only  the  struggle  of  ex- 
treme and  absolutely  hostile  principles.  Total  spir- 
itual night,  and  supernatural  illumination,  divide  this 
scene  of  things  between  them ;  and  to  give  some 
semblance  of  probability  to  this,  a  badge-morality 
must  be  set  up,  that  it  may  be  clear  who  's  who. 
The  notion  that  they  are  living  in  a  lost  world  visi- 
bly influences  the  moral  judgments  of  divines.  They 
are  bound  to  find  "  the  world  "  guilty,  and  see  it  un- 
der an  aspect  of  indiscriminate  condemnation.  Hence 
amusements,  occupations,  habits,  beliefs,  are  con- 
demned, not  for  their  intrinsic  demerits,  but  simply 
because  they  are  favorites  with  a  class  prejudged  as 
unconverted.  What  these  children  of  perdition  do, 
the  heirs  of  grace  make  a  point  of  avoiding;  and 
where  the  worldly  go,  the  holy  stay  away ;  or  if  they 
happen  to  meet  in  any  scene  which  the  former  en- 
joy, the  latter  will  be  found  to  be  groaning  in  spirit. 
Contrast  and  distinction  thus  become  prime  essen- 
tials with  those  who  fancy  themselves  secretly 
marked  out  from  the  sinful  herd  with  whom  their 
lot  is  thrown;  and  were  there  no  world  to  inveigh 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          335 

against  and  shun,  one  half  the  rules  by  which  they 
speak  and  live  would  disappear. 

This  contrast  of  character  between  the  world  and 
the  Church  has  not  always,  we  confess,  been  as  un- 
real as  it  has  now  become.  Usurping  a  place  in 
Christianity  among  the  theocratic  ideas  which  cor- 
rupted the  religion  almost  from  the  first,  it  operated 
largely  on  history,  and  tended  to  realize  itself.  Un- 
der certain  conditions,  moreover,  society  inclines,  by 
natural  law,  to  part  into  extremes.  The  ideal  of 
Christian  perfection,  once  given  to  the  mind,  could 
not  live  in  the  close  presence  of  a  universal  corrup- 
tion of  morals,  such  as  spread  over  the  Roman  em- 
pire in  its  decline;  and  to  fly  from  such  a  world 
seemed  the  sole  resource  for  those  who  would  be 
faithful  to  the  vows  and  hopes  of  their  discipleship. 
In  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  centuries  the  whole  as- 
pect of  Europe  supported,  by  its  opposite  coloring, 
the  theory  of  a  secular  and  a  spiritual  race  coexist- 
ing on  this  earth.  The  face  of  every  country  was 
dotted  over  with  castles  as  the  symbols  of  the  one, 
and  abbeys  as  the  other ;  and  on  the  roads,  the  helm 
and  sword,  or  the  cowl  and  staff,  showed  at  once  the 
traveller's  class.  Nor,  with  all  the  vices  of  the  mo- 
nastic system,  was  the  external  and  assumed  distinc- 
tion entirely  deceptive.  One  difference  of  character, 
at  all  events,  never  failed ;  the  world  was  a  camp, 
the  abbey  a  sanctuary ;  the  one  contested  at  all 
points  by  men  of  war,  the  other  occupied  by  disci- 
ples of  the  Prince  of  Peace.  But  besides  this,  the 
state  of  manners  among  the  nobles  and  gentry,  the 
cruelties  and  treachery  which  marked  their  feuds, 


336  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  oppression  with  which  they  treated  their  serfs, 
the  riot  and  excess  which  disgraced  their  dwellings, 
turned  many  a  province  into  a  plausible  likeness  to 
some  devil's  realm,  and  rendered  it  scarce  habitable 
by  any  but  rude  and  untamed  spirits.  And  so  the 
gentle  and  devout  were  driven,  by  the  mere  repul- 
sion of  such  a  scene,  to  take  the  vows  of  poverty  and 
celibacy.  Though  weakness  and  incapacity  also 
were  forced,  by  greedy  relatives,  into  the  cloister; 
and  though  the  retreat  inevitably  degenerated  often 
into  a  hiding-place  of  idleness  and  hypocrisy;  yet 
whatever  divine  enthusiasm  seized  anywhere  upon 
the  souls  of  men  sought  a  refuge  there;  whatever 
declension  might  afterwards  creep  on,  at  least  the 
moment  of  entrance  was  warm  with  the  fresh  fervor 
of  devotion :  and  that  was  the  moment  when  the  eye 
of  spectators,  bidding  adieu  to  the  young  devotee, 
caught  the  contrasted  glimpse  of  the  world  and  the 
Church.  Time  after  time,  the  convent  door  seemed 
to  close  behind  some  soul  purely  consecrate  to 
Christ.  In  that  age,  therefore,  there  was  little  to 
contradict  the  Church  classification:  as  in  heaven, 
so  on  earth,  were  the  spheres  of  character  distinct ; 
and  to  the  opposite  directions  Were  qualities  truly 
opposite  attracted.  When  all  the  business  and  en- 
terprise of  life  was  of  a  kind  that  a  pious  Christian 
could  not  touch,  it  was  excusable  in  him  to  fly,  and, 
in  the  absence  of  all  worthy  scope  for  human  facul- 
ty, make  a  business  of  religion. 

But  what  can  be  more  preposterous  than  to  ex- 
hibit this  type  of  mind  as  a  model  for  the  emulation 
of  the  present  age  ?  —  as  if  we  had  no  more  natural 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  337 

gymnastics  for  the  character  than  were  furnished  in 
the  objectless  life  of  the  monk ;  no  temptations  with- 
out meeting  with  devils  in  a  wood ;  no  self-denials 
without  pricking  our  waists  with  sharp  chain-belts, 
or  mimicking  with  piercing  hats  the  crown  of  thorns ! 
Yet,  to  reawaken  the  English  admiration  for  this  as- 
cetic discipline,  the  "  Lives  of  the  Saints  "  are  avow- 
edly written ;  to  induce  converted  bankers  to  quit 
Lombard  Street  for  a  life  of  contemplation,  to  incline 
cotton-spinners  to  recite  the  Psalter  every  day,  and 
bring  Sir  Robert  Peel  down  to  the  house  in  a  hair 
shirt. 

These  books  are  to  us  in  the  highest  degree  mel- 
ancholy ;  not  the  less  so  for  their  singular  beauty  and 
fascination.  Their  subtle  grace  of  form  and  style, 
their  frequent  depth  and  delicacy  of  expression,  are 
the  fair  disguise  of  a  fatal  unsoundness ;  their  bril- 
liant and  romantic  coloring  is  but  the  sad  hectic  of 
the  spirit.  Their  whole  aim  is  to  recommend,  not 
self-devotion  to  high  ends,  but  a  species  of  suicide  for 
Christ's  sake ;  the  quenching  of  passion,  the  abro- 
gation of  intellect,  and  the  plucking  up  of  the  fairest 
human  affections,  to  be  trampled  on  as  weeds.  The 
intensest  forces  of  the  soul  are  to  be  spent  in  noth- 
ing else  than  in  crushing  themselves;  and  when 
beauty  has  made  itself  hideous,  and  eloquence  learned 
to  stammer,  and  acuteness  blunted  its  edge  against 
holy  contradictions,  and  creative  genius  brought  it- 
self to  do  nothing,  and  he  who  might  rule  an  empire 
sweeps  a  drain, — then  is  the  sacrifice  complete,  and 
the  whole  nature  thus  ruined  is  said  to  be  dedicate 
to  God.  As  if  He  were  a  great  devouring  abyss  of 
29 


338  r     MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

annihilation,  demanding  to  be  fed  by  the  everlasting 
consumption  of  whatever  is  lovely  and  glorious ;  and 
stationing  men  here  only  to  watch  every  grace  and 
power  as  it  emerged  into  life,  and  instantly  pitch  it 
back  again  into  death. 

In  no  instance  is  the  extravagance  of  this  doctrine 
more  strikingly  presented  than  in  the  sketch  of  St. 
Bernard,  contained  in  the  Life  of  St.  Stephen,  Abbot 
of  Citeaux.  This  poor  monastery,  the  birthplace 
of  the  Cistercian  order,  was  distinguished  by  its 
severity  of  discipline.  For  fourteen  years  it  had  ex- 
isted without  drawing  to  it  any  new  inmates  to  re- 
place the  original  fraternity  as  death  thinned  their 
numbers ;  and  already  the  life  of  unprofitable  pain, 
and  an  atmosphere  of  wood  and  swamp,  had  made 
great  havoc  with  the  little  band.  Amid  these  dis- 
couragements, however,  the  lonely  place  was  one 
day  startled  by  the  knocking  at  the  gate  of  thirty 
men,  who  applied  in  a  body  for  admission  as  nov- 
ices. This  group,  composed  of  men  from  the  no- 
blest houses  of  Burgundy,  was  gathered  around  the 
person  and  under  the  lead  of  the  young  and  high- 
born Bernard.  The  saint's  graces  of  countenance 
and  soul,  the  sweetness  of  his  eloquence,  the  quick- 
ness of  his  intellect,  are  described  by  the  author  with 
the  fervor  of  a  manifest  sympathy.  The  enthusiasm 
of  the  youth  was  not  content  with  the  sacrifice  of 
himself;  but  he  set  himself  to  drag  all  his  relations 
with  him  into  the  cloister.  And  he  succeeded. 
Genius,  kindled  by  the  consciousness  of  high  resolve, 
has  vast  power;  and  Bernard  combined,  in  utmost 
perfection,  all  the  qualities  before  which  lower  minds, 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.   ^  *,    339 

in  spite  of  their  rude  stubbornness  of  will,  are  found 
to  bend  and  yield ;  like  iron  that  resists  an  outer 
pressure,  but  grows  pliant  with  inner  heat.  His 
burning  words  and  indomitable  zeal  carried  off  into 
monastic  captivity  his  five  brothers,  who  left  their 
old  father  "  to  sit  alone  in  his  deserted  halls  with  his 
daughter  Humbeline,"  "a  barren  trunk,  with  the 
choice  boughs  lopped  off" ;  besides  an  uncle  and 
many  friends,  torn  not  from  estates  and  possessions 
merely,  but  often  from  their  wives,  whom  Bernard 
persuaded  or  terrified  into  consent  and  the  widow- 
hood of  a  nunnery.  Our  biographer  does  not  shrink 
from  the  protest  which  affection  and  conscience  utter 
against  this  frightful  fanaticism.  Whether  his  replies 
are  satisfactory  to  faith,  we  cannot  presume  to  say ; 
but  assuredly  they  are  not  convincing  to  reason ;  in- 
deed, so  fine  and  feminine  are  they,  that  they  can  be 
called  answers  only  by  a  species  of  logical  gallantry. 

"  Now,  it  may  be  asked,  that  Stephen  has  housed  his 
thirty  novices,  what  has  he  or  any  one  else  gained  by  it  ?  — 
what  equivalent  is  gained  for  all  these  ties  rudely  rent, — 
for  all  these  bleeding  hearts  torn  asunder,  and  carrying 
their  wounds  unhealed  into  the  cloister  ?  Would  not  rus- 
tics suit  Stephen's  case  well,  if  he  would  cultivate  a  marsh 
in  an  old  wood,  without  desolating  the  hearths  of  the  no- 
blest houses  in  Burgundy  ?  Human  feeling  revolts,  when 
high  nobles,  with  their  steel  helmets,  shining  hauberks,  and 
painted  surcoats,  are  levelled  with  the  commonest  tillers  of 
the  soil ;  and  even  feelings  of  pity  arise  when  high-born 
dames,  clad  in  minever  and  blazing  with  jewels,  cast  all 
aside  for  the  rough  sackcloth  and  the  poor  serge  of  St.  Ben- 
edict. What  shall  we  say  when  young  mothers  quit  their 
husbands  and  their  families,  to  bury  themselves  in  a  clois- 


340  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

I 

ter  ?  There  are  here  no  painted  windows  and  golden 
candlesticks,  with  chasubles  of  white  and  gold  to  help  out 
the  illusion ;  feeling  and  imagination,  all  are  shocked  alike, 
and  every  faculty  of  the  natural  man  is  jarred  at  once  at 
the  thought.  Such  words  might  have  been  spoken  even  in 
Stephen's  time,  but  '  wisdom  is  justified  of  her  children.' 
One  word  suffices  to  silence  all  these  murmurers ;  Ecce 
homo,  —  Behold  the  man !  The  wonders  of  the  incarna- 
tion are  an  answer  to  all  cavils.  Why,  it  may  as  well  be 
asked,  did  our  blessed  Lord  choose  to  be  a  poor  man,  in- 
stead of  being  clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen  ?  —  why 
was  His  mother  a  poor  virgin  ?  —  why  was  He  born  in  an 
inn,  and  laid  in  a  manger  ?  —  why  did  He  leave  his  blessed 
mother,  and  almost  repulse  her,  when  she  would  speak  to 
Him  ?  —  why  was  that  mother's  soul  pierced  with  agony 
at  the  sufferings  of  her  divine  Son  ?  —  why,  when  one  drop 
of  His  precious  blood  would  have  healed  the  whole  creation, 
did  He  pour  it  all  out  for  us  ?  —  in  a  word,  why,  when  He 
might  have  died  (if  it  be  not  wrong  to  say  so)  what  the 
world  calls  a  glorious  death,  did  He  choose  out  the  most 
shameful,  besides  heaping  to  Himself  every  form  of  insult, 
and  pain  of  body  and  soul  ?  He  did  all  this  to  show  us  that 
suffering  was  now  to  be  the  natural  state  of  the  new  man, 
just  as  pleasure  is  the  natural  state  of  the  old.  Suffering 
and  humiliation  are  the  proper  weapons  of  the  Christian, 
precisely  in  the  same  way  that  independence,  unbounded 
dominion  and  power,  are  the  instruments  of  the  greatness 
of  the  world.  No  one  can  see  how  all  this  acts  to  bring 
about  the  final  triumph  of  good  over  evil ;  it  requires  faith, 
but  so  does  the  spectacle  of  our  blessed  Lord  naked  on  the 
cross,  with  St.  Mary  and  St.  John  weeping  on  each  side. 
After  casting  our  eyes  on  the  holy  rood,  does  it  never  occur 
to  us  to  wonder  how  it  can  be  possible  to  be  saved  in  the 
midst  of  the  endearments  of  a  family  and  the  joys  of  do- 


• 

THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          341 

mestic  life  ?  God  forbid  that  any  one  should  deny  the  pos- 
sibility !  —  but  does  it  not  at  first  sight  require  proof,  that 
heaven  can  be  won  by  a  life  spent  in  this  quiet  way? 
Again,  let  us  consider  the  dreadful  nature  of  sin,  even  of 
what  are  called  the  least  sins,  and  would  not  any  one  wish 
to  cast  in  his  lot  with  Stephen,  and  wash  them  away  by  con- 
tinual penance  ?  Now,  if  what  has  been  said  is  not  enough 
to  reconcile  the  reader's  mind  to  their  leaving  their  father 
in  a  body,  which  looks  like  quitting  a  positive  duty,  it  should 
be  considered  that  they  believed  themselves  to  be  acting 
under  the  special  direction  of  God.  Miracles  were  really 
wrought  to  beckon  them  on ;  at  least,  they  were  firmly  con- 
vinced of  the  truth  of  those  miracles,  which  is  enough  for 
our  purpose  ;  and  they  would  have  disobeyed  what  they  con- 
sidered to  be  God's  guidance,  if  they  had  remained  in  the 
world.  Miracles,  indeed,  cannot  be  pleaded  to  the  revers- 
ing of  commands  of  the  Decalogue  ;  but  persons  leave  their 
parents  for  causes  which  do  not  involve  religion  at  all,  as 
to  follow  some  profession  in  a  distant  quarter  of  the  globe, 
or  to  marry ;  and  we  may  surely  excuse  St.  Bernard  and 
his  brothers  for  conduct  which  was  so  amply  justified  by  the 
event.  One  word  more  :  every  one  will  allow  that  he  who 
is  continually  meditating  on  heaven  and  heavenly  things, 
and  ever  has  his  conversation  in  heaven,  where  Christ  is  sit- 
ting at  the  right  hand  of  God,  is  more  perfect  than  he  who 
is  always  thinking  on  worldly  affairs.  Let  no  one  say  that 
this  perfection  is  ideal,  for  it  is  a  mere  fact  that  it  has  been 
attained.  Stephen  and  Bernard,  and  ten  thousand  other 
saints,  have  won  this  perfection,  and  it  may  be  it  is  won 
now,  for  the  Church  verily  is  not  dead,  nor  have  the  gates 
of  hell  prevailed  against  her.  All  cannot  attain  to  such  a 
high  state  on  earth,  for  it  is  not  the  vocation  of  all.  It  was, 
however,  plainly  God's  will,  that  all  Bernard's  convertites 
should  be  so  called,  from  the  fact  of  their  having  attained 
29' 


342  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

to  that  state  of  perfection.  They  were  happy,  for  to  them 
it  was  given  not  to  fear  those  words  of  our  Lord,  '  Whoso- 
ever loveth  father  or  mother  more  than  me  is  not  worthy  of 
me ' ;  or  again,  that  saying,  spoken  to  one  who  asked  to  go 
and  bury  his  father,  '  Let  the  dead  bury  the  dead.'  More- 
over, they  knew  that  blessing,  '  Verily  I  say  unto  you, 
There  is  no  man  that  hath  left  house,  or  brethren,  or  sisters, 
or  father,  or  mother,  or  wife,  or  children,  or  lands,  for  my 
sake  and  the  Gospel's,  but  he  shall  receive  an  hundred-fold 
now  in  this  time,  houses,  and  brethren,  and  sisters,  and 
mothers,  and  children,  and  lands,  with  persecutions ;  and 
in  the  world  to  come  eternal  life.'  Bernard  did  receive 
back  both  father  and  sister,  for  his  father  died  in  his  arms 
a  monk  at  Clairvaux,  and  his  sister  also  in  time  retired  to  a 
cloister.  Let  any  one  read  St.  Bernard's  sermons  on  the 
Song  of  Solomon,  and  he  will  not  doubt  that  monks  have 
joys  of  their  own,  which  none  but  those  who  have  felt  them 
can  comprehend." —  pp.  113  -  115. 

To  unravel  the  complex  web  of  this  dialetic  is  the 
less  needful,  because  it  is,  in  its  very  nature,  of  that 
delicate  kind  that  no  mind  can  be  held  entangled 
in  it,  except  by  spontaneously  resting  beneath  it, 
pleased  with  the  feel  of  it  on  the  surface  of  thought. 
Besides,  who  can  untwine  the  windings  of  a  gossa- 
mer, thrown  with  its  dewdrops  on  his  reason?  It 
breaks  in  the  attempt ;  and,  to  be  rid  of  it,  the  only 
way  is  to  wipe  it  off.  As  to  the  argument,  however, 
from  the  incarnation,  which  is  to  be  good  against  all 
cavils,  we  would  ask,  —  Is  it  then  true  that  the  Re- 
deemer might  have  saved  the  world  at  much  less 
cost  ?  —  and  was  a  portion  of  his  suffering  absolute- 
ly gratuitous  ?  —  can  his  example  be  quoted  in  favor 
of  the  assumption  of  pain  for  its  own  sake?  We 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  343 

had  always  thought  that,  "when  he  was  rich,"  it 
was  "/or  our  sakes  that  he  became  poor " ;  and  if 
any  of  his  privations  were  unrelated  to  an  end,  why 
not  all? 

Again,  it  is  an  abuse  of  all  reasonable  doctrine  of 
self-denial,  to  pronounce  that  "  suffering  and  humil- 
iation "  are  the  proper  weapons  of  the  Christian,  just 
as  independence,  dominion,  and  power.  "  Suffering 
and  humiliation "  are  mere  negations,  productive 
of  nothing,  conquering  nothing  in  and  by  them- 
selves :  they  do  not  stand  related  to  the  ends  of  the 
Christian  life  as  power  to  the  ends  of  the  worldly 
life;  for  power  achieves  its  purposes,  whatever  be 
the  quality  of  the  will  that  guides  it ;  but  suffering 
achieves  nothing,  apart  from  the  spirit  that  bows  un- 
der it  and  interprets  it :  else  might  a  man  be  saved 
by  a  toothache  or  a  bankruptcy.  It  is  easy  to  see 
the  source  whence  this  exaggeration  springs.  The 
genuine  moral  service  laid  upon  us  in  this  world  can- 
not be  accomplished  without  the  endurance  of  hard- 
ship and  privation  ;  and  he  who  cannot  dispense 
with  his  ease  and  indulgences,  and  go  fasting  long 
months  or  years  without  the  taste  of  them,  is  no 
faithful  vassal  of  the  Divine  Power  that  rules  him. 
There  is  danger  lest  he  shrink  from  the  post  of  allot- 
ted trial,  and  the  spectacle  of  privation  drive  him 
back  from  his  fidelity.  This  danger  must  be  provid- 
ed against  by  devotedness  and  resolve ;  suffering 
must  be  so  vanquished  as  to  be  no  hinderance,  and 
impose  no  limits  to  the  perseverance  of  high  affec- 
tions. But  a  positive  help,  an  efficacious  instru- 
ment, of  noble  purposes,  it  cannot  be;  for  what 


344  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

moral,  what  spiritual  character,  can  there  be  in  tor- 
tured nerves  or  a  lacerated  skin  ?  What  sanctity  in 
having  the  body  brought  low, —  for  does  not  the 
spent  voluptuary,  as  well  as  the  fasting  saint, 
accomplish  that?  Suffering  and  humiliation  are 
indeed  conditions,  under  which  a  good  man  must  be 
willing  that  his  moral  purposes  and  vows  shall  act 
without  abatement  or  recoil ;  but  in  those  purposes, 
with  the  sustaining  help  of  Heaven,  lie  his  power- 
there  alone  is  the  armory  whence  he  draws  the 
"weapons"  of  his  conquest.  No  doubt,  the  appa- 
rition of  a  sudden  difficulty,  the  threat  of  a  great 
peril,  nay,  even  the  tension  of  some  terrible  anguish, 
will  condense,  as  it  were,  the  energies  of  a  strong 
soul,  and  bring  them  to  a  pitch  of  sublimity  impos- 
sible to  mere  volition :  but  only  on  this  condition, 
that  the  suffering  be  involuntary,  starting  up  as  a 
resistance  to  be  hurled  away,  not  sought  as  an  end 
to  be  retained.  At  once  to  court  and  to  repel  resist- 
ance involves  a  self-neutralizing  action  of  the  soul, 
inconsistent  alike  with  its  force  and  its  repose. 

It  remains  to  be  proved,  says  our  author,  with  evi- 
dent inclination  to  the  negative,  whether  a  married 
man  or  woman  can  be  saved !  Is  the  doubt  serious  ? 
What  a  cheerful  prospect  must  his  faith  open  to  him 
in  the  future  ;  —  not  even  —  as  we  had  thought  — 
Abraham  and  Isaac  and  Jacob ;  —  but,  in  the  absence 
of  family  groups,  anchorites  and  cenobites,  priests  and 
nuns !  It  is  unfortunate  for  the  celibate  successors 
of  St.  Peter  that  he  was  a  married  man ;  and  curious, 
that  St.  Paul,  the  Apostle  of  the  Protestants,  pre- 
ferred to  remain  unmarried.  Nothing  can  more 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  345 

clearly  prove,  than  this  query  about  matrimonial  sal- 
vation, the  slavish  worship  of  pain  which  is  taking 
possession  of  a  large  class  of  ecclesiastics  in  the 
present  day.  Sickened  with  the  prating  about  hap- 
piness and  interest  among  moralists  of  the  last  gen- 
eration, they  do  not  perceive  that  this  wretched  idol, 
like  all  others,  may  be  worshipped  in  two  ways, — 
as  a  god,  or  as  a  devil ;  by  adoration,  or  by  depreca- 
tion ;  with  the  worship  of  love,  or  the  worship  of 
fear.  The  ascetic  is  unconsciously  a  votary  of  the 
very  same  false  deity  as  the  epicurean ;  only  shrink- 
ing from  him  in  terror,  instead  of  approaching  him 
with  hope ;  getting  into  his  power  through  antipathy 
instead  of  sympathy ;  and  visiting  his  approaches 
with  exorcism  rather  than  with  prayers.  In  the  eye 
of  truth,  however,  an  idol  is  neither  god  nor  devil, 
but  just  nothing  in  the  world.  And  so  this  foolish 
happiness  —  much  stroked  and  much  beaten  image, 
carved  out  of  the  stock  of  a  wooden  philosophy  —  is 
nothing  to  the  essence  of  human  duty  at  all.  Nei- 
ther positively  nor  privately  does  obligation  lie  in 
the  feeling  flesh  or  in  the  sensitive  spirit :  the  sensi- 
bilities can  give  no  sanctities,  and  take  none  away  : 
but  simply  stand  by  as  a  neutral  presence,  that  is 
neither  to  invite  nor  to  deter.  Other  scales  than  any 
they  can  give  —  scales  not  of  measured  intensity,  but 
of  divine  quality  —  have  authority  to  determine  the 
ends  and  provide  for  the  holiness  of  life. 

It  is  perhaps  a  very  shocking  confession,  but  we 
shall  nevertheless  avow  our  doubt,  whether  "  he  who 
is  continually  meditating  on  heaven  is  more  perfect 
than  he  who  is  always  thinking  on  worldly  affairs." 


MARTINEAU  S    MISCELLANIES. 

"  Continually  meditating"  on  any  thing  whatsoever 
we  should  regard  as  a  state  so  little  perfect,  that  the 
question  of  more  or  less,  according  to  the  object  that 
might  engage  so  mutilated  a  soul,  is  without  practi- 
cal value.  But  as  the  sustained  contemplation  of 
"  heavenly  things  "  seems  to  preclude,  while  the  atten- 
tion to  "  worldly  things  demands,"  the  descent  of  the 
will  into  action,  and  some  wholesome  strife  for  the 
moral  powers,  we  submit  that  the  last  is  so  far  higher 
than  the  first.  If  by  "  worldly  things  "  we  are  to 
think  only  of  objects  intrinsically  evil,  and  to  suppose 
the  man  planning  how  to  cheat  his  creditors,  or 
wreak  his  revenge,  or  pamper  his  appetites, — the 
question  begs  its  own  answer,  and  any  celestial 
quietism  is  better  than  that.  But  if  the  parallel  be 
drawn  between  a  mind  floating  in  spiritual  space, 
and  a  soul  accepting,  like  a  good  athlete,  the  con- 
ditions of  its  battle  here,  and  animating  the  limbs  to 
work,  and  the  brave  heart  to  throb,  under  the  con- 
trolling eye  of  the  great  Arbiter,  then  we  say  that 
this  last,  though  he  serve  behind  a  counter  at  a  retail 
trade,  is  a  higher  graduate  in  saintship  than  the  most 
accomplished  enthusiast  of  the  cloister.  Whatever 
be  the  Divine  communication  with  human  nature 
here,  it  can  run  through  us  safely,  if  at  all,  only  like 
the  electric  fluid  of  the  atmosphere  above,  when  we 
stand  in  connection  with  the  great  earth-currents  be- 
neath our  feet :  and  he  who  would  have  all  and  hold 
all  within  himself  that  comes  from  heaven  will  find, 
on  his  glass  stool  of  insulation,  but  fruitless  shocks 
or  dead  paralysis.  No  man,  poising  himself  apart, 
can  there  set  and  solve  his  own  problems,  —  of  duty 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          347 

any  more  than  of  truth.  And,  with  all  the  rich 
painting  of  these  "Lives  of  the  Saints,"  nothing  ap- 
pears to  us  more  deplorable  than  the  image  which 
they  give  of  minds  intrinsically  great  and  good, 
vainly  expending  their  intensest  force  against  the 
impalpable  resistance  of  their  own  passions  in  vacua. 
The  formidable  encroachments  made  by  the  An- 
glican party  of  late  years,  and  the  wide  influence 
exercised  by  them  through  the  indirect  channels  of 
an  attractive  literature,  raise  these  topics  of  doctrine, 
morals,  and  taste  into  matters  of  national,  and  even 
political  importance.  The  ecclesiastical  phenomena 
of  our  time  are  very  anomalous.  While  the  clergy 
are,  beyond  comparison,  more  active  and  faithful 
than  at  any  time  since  the  Revolution,  this  is  in  great 
measure  owing  to  an  intellectual  ferment  among 
them,  which  places  them  at  a  greater  distance  than 
before  from  the  sympathy  of  the  nation  which  they 
serve.  The  fresh  tide  of  ideas  and  sentiments  which 
has  rebaptized  them  with  earnestness,  and  delivered 
them  from  routine,  has  poured  in  upon  them  from  the 
Universities.  It  is  of  academic  source,  and  of  aca- 
demic character.  It  is  the  accumulation  of  thought 
and  theory,  the  product  of  books :  the  result  even  of 
a  vast  and  deliberate  design,  conceived  and  partly 
realized  by  one  commanding  and  systematizing  in- 
tellect. Of  that  deep  and  vivifying  mind  the  change 
in  the  clergy  is,  in  great  measure,  but  the  propagated 
influence.  Meanwhile,  during  this  reanimation  of 
the  Church  on  the  collegiate  side,  the  tide  of  life 
without  has  run  in  the  opposite  direction ;  and  the 
very  feeling  prevalent,  that  Oxford  has  been  the  scene 


MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

of  a  sort  of  Popish  plot  for  plunging  England  back 
into  Romanism,  and,  by  a  species  of  logical  black 
art,  spiriting  away  across  the  German  Ocean  the 
Reformation  and  all  its  works,  has  broken  down 
popular  faith  in  the  simplicity  and  veracity  of  the 
clergy,  and  shaken  the  whole  fabric.  The  new  doc- 
trines are  hated  ;  and  the  old  ones  —  as  would  ap- 
pear from  the  eagerness  to  be  rid  of  them  —  were  not 
satisfactory  to  the  divines  themselves.  The  people 
who  believe  on  authority  are  pulled  two  ways ;  those 
who  believe  on  conviction  are  pulled  neither;  and 
thus,  while  the  momentum  of  an  inert  perseverance 
is  lost,  the  vis  viva  of  a  new  impulse  is  not  gained. 
There  is  something,  moreover,  exceedingly  offensive 
in  the  grand  and  sacerdotal  style  with  which  the 
new  ritual  pretensions  are  put  forth  by  men  who 
have  only  recently  discovered  them  ;  and  among  the 
names  most  prominent  in  their  assertion,  there  is  one 
at  least  whose  appearance  in  such  a  connection  does 
more  to  discredit  the  whole  movement  than  shoals 
of  tracts  and  Catena  Patrum  to  advance  it.  In  the 
Times  of  March  28th  appear  certain  resolutions 
having  reference  to  the  Gorham  decision  ;  they  de- 
clare, among  other  alarming  results  of  Mr.  Gorham's 
interpretation,  that  the  Evangelical  "  portion  of  the 
Church,"  by  participation  in  "  such  conscious,  wilful, 
and  deliberate  act,  becomes  formally  separated  from 
the  Catholic  body,  and  can  no  longer  assure  to  its 
members  the  grace  of  the  sacraments  and  the  remis- 
sion of  sins. "  Among  the  subscribers  to  this  denun- 
ciation against  the  Evangelical  party  are  two  sons  of 
William  Wilberforce !  Every  body  asks,  Were  not 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          349 

these  gentlemen  brought  up  at  Clapham? — were 
they  not  baptized  themselves  by  a  vital  clergyman, 
and  catechized  by  a  Cambridge  saint?  —  was  not 
Charles  Simeon  the  trusted  friend  at  the  paternal 
house  ?  —  were  they  not,  moreover,  trained  in  a  pe- 
culiar horror  of  wax  candles  and  holy  water,  as  in 
all  the  other  essentials  of  decided  piety  ?  When  did 
they  discover  'the  good  father's  "  formal  separation 
from  the  Catholic  body,"  and  his  uncertain  pro- 
vision for  the  remission  of  their  sins  ?  And  this  is 
the  school  which,  when  it  would  keep  stagnant  the 
young  thought  of  a  new  generation,  preaches  up 
"  the  inherent  sanctity  of  hereditary  religion  "  !  Con- 
science no  doubt  is  imperative,  and  superior  to  all 
weaknesses  ;  but  conscience  bears,  without  forfeiture 
of  authority,  some  little  mingling  of  human  affection  ; 
and  few  would  have  condemned  a  preference,  in  the 
present  instance,  for  the  silent  modesty  of  filial  rev- 
erence over  the  forward  pomp  of  sacerdotal  denun- 
ciation. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  hierarchical  style  is  looked 
on  with  suspicion  in  England,  especially  when  it  is 
an  upstart  affair,  new  to  the  ears  of  men  fifty  years 
old.  It  is  ranked  with  the  rhodomontade  of  a  Mex- 
ican dictator,  or  the  bombast  of  a  Haytian  emperor. 
The  chief  effect  of  the  dissensions  which  have  pro- 
duced it  is  to  startle  quiet  people  into  a  [discovery 
of  what  the  Church  theology  really  is ;  to  convince 
them  in  what  latitude  of  thought  she  lies  ;  and  show 
them  that,  while  they  have  been  drifting  down  the 
living  current  of  centuries,  she  strives  to  hold  to  her 
moorings  in  the  past,  and  denies  that  she  even  drags 
30 


350  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

her  anchor  in  the  least.  The  old  doctrines  being  un- 
disguisedly  reproduced,  people  exclaim,  "  This  is  not 
what  we  believe,  and  we  do  not  choose  to  be  bound 
by  it.  It  may  be  all  right  after  the  fashion  of  the  old 
doctors;  but  somehow  it  does  not  ring  like  the  Ser- 
mon on  the  Mount,  and  does  not  seem  to  fit  with 
men  that  ride  on  railroads,  read  newspapers,  and  sail 
round  the  globe."  The  complaint,  though  felt  rath- 
er than  uttered,  or  uttered  by  those  who  cannot  ex- 
plain and  justify  it,  is  perfectly  well  founded.  It  is 
impossible  for  the  layman  of  the  nineteenth  century 
to  think  after  the  manner  of  the  fourth,  or  even  of  the 
sixteenth,  and  he  must  insist,  sooner  or  later,  on  car- 
rying the  clergy  with  him.  They,  living  more  among 
books,  may  find  it  easier  to  sustain  a  stationary 
mode  of  mind ;  but  they,  too,  must  secretly  feel  a 
change,  the  open  recognition  of  which  would  be  an 
infinite  relief  to  their  sincerity.  The  affectation  of  i  m- 
mobility  incurs  in  this  world  the  penalty  of  destruc- 
tion. Catholic  theories  can  no  more  arrest  the  course 
of  change,  than  the  doctrines  of  a  universal  atmos- 
phere can  stop  the  wind.  It  may  be  very  true  that 
the  Church  is  built  upon  a  rock;  but  the  rock  is 
rooted  in  the  earth,  and  stands  above  the  sea,  and 
with  the  mountains  and  the  floods  must  roll  on 
through  the  great  seasons  of  Providence. 

A  glance  backward  into  the  past  will  show  that  the 
alienation  of  the  national  intelligence  and  piety  from 
the  Church  system  is  not  wonderful,  or  to  be  simply 
bewailed  as  a  sign  of  degeneracy.  That  system,  if 
we  assume  the  Anglican  point  of  view,  was  made 
up  before  the  end  of  the  fourth  century ;  and  if  we 


f 

THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          351 

take  the  Evangelical,  early  in  the  sixteenth.  No 
change  has  found  admission  since.  Let  any  one 
cast  his  eye,  however  superficially,  over  the  course 
of  knowledge  and  the  history  of  civilization  during 
the  last  three  centuries,  and  say  whether  the  image 
men  formed  to  themselves  of  the  constitution  of  this 
universe,  at  the  commencement  of  this  time,  could 
possibly  remain  equally  credible  at  the  end.  It  is 
vain  to  say  that  a  revelation  abides  steadfast  amid 
change:  the  dogmatic  system  of  the  Church  is  not 
a  revelation,  but  a  human  elaboration  of  the  contents, 
materials,  and  even  accretions  of  revelation ;  and  its 
soundness  and  durability  as  a  structure  depend,  not 
simply  on  the  substance  of  the  living  rock  within  it, 
but  not  less  on  the  selection,  the  combination,  the 
proportion  of  parts ;  for  all  which  the  architectonic 
intellect  of  man  is  alone  responsible.  No  less  vain 
is  it  to  plead  that  the  creeds  have  reference  only  to 
moral  and  religious  truth,  which  lies  above  the  reach, 
or  at  least  beyond  the  range,  of  the  inductive  sciences 
and  practical  arts,  and  so  shines  with  constancy 
through  all  their  shifting  light  and  shade.  The  al- 
legation is  not  tenable  in  fact.  The  Articles  of  the 
Church  abound  with  metaphysical  propositions,  with 
historical  judgments,  with  verdicts  of  literary  criti- 
cism, which  have  no  claim  whatsoever  to  a  moral  or 
religious  character.  This  is  not.  in  our  opinion,  to  be 
charged  as  a  fault  against  those  who  framed  the  code 
of  belief,  —  unless  on  the  ground  of  an  excess  in  defi- 
nition :  it  is  impossible  for  faith  to  remain  purely  sub- 
jective ;  it  looks  within  and  without,  and  from  its  ea- 
ger eye  darts  an  interpreting  glance  on  all  things ;  it 


352  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

has  the  attribute  which  Plato  assigns  to  philosophy, — 
that  it  is  (TVVOKTIKOS  ;  and  as  it  is  ever  in  part  a  herit- 
age, in  part  a  correction,  of  the  past,  its  position  in 
relation  to  antecedent  thought  must  needs  be  laid 
down.  We  do  not,  therefore,  agree  with  those  who 
complain  of  religion  for  meddling  at  all  with  physi- 
cal and  metaphysical  questions,  and  mixing  itself  up 
with  human  history  as  well  as  divine.  Minds  at 
once  inquisitive  and  devout  cannot  rest  without  a 
certain  philosophy  of  faith,  in  which  all  that  comes 
before  their  thought  finds  a  place  in  harmony  with 
their  perception  of  a  divine  order.  We  will  not  even 
raise  the  question  whether,  in  the  age  of  the  Refor- 
mation, the  propositions  expressive  of  such  a  theory 
might  properly  be  erected  into  authoritative  condi- 
tions of  Christian  fellowship.  But  in  defending  the 
right  of  theology  to  go  out  from  its  own  centre,  and 
clear  itself  all  round  by  objective  definitions,  we  fore- 
go the  plea  which  was  to  excuse  it  from  all  change, 
and  can  no  longer  say  that,  being  wholly  ethical  and 
spiritual,  it  is  free  from  admixture  with  the  mutable 
and  mortal.  Its  liberty  to  visit  the  entire  realm  of 
knowledge  is  not  to  be  converted  into  a  hostile  oc- 
cupancy :  the  guest  must  not  settle  as  the  usurper, 
nor  the  seer's  rod  be  turned  into  the  iron  sceptre. 
The  essence  of  the  religion  of  Christendom  is  eter- 
nal ;  but  the  dogmatic  scheme  constructed  by  apply- 
ing it  forward  and  backward  in  time  from  the  last 
hour  of  chaos  to  the  day  of  doom,  and  along  all  radii 
in  space  from  "  the  spirits  in  prison  "  to  the  seventh 
heaven,  must  take  the  risks  of  human  theory,  and  be 
open  to  the  enlargements  of  human  experience. 


• 

THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          353 

Now,  consider  only  the  picture  of  the  physical 
universe  familiar  to  the  mind  of  the  sixteenth  centu- 
ry at  its  commencement,  and  trace  the  inevitable 
effect  of  our  altered  distribution  of  natural  bodies 
in  space.  The  Ptolemaic  system  —  not  refuted  till 
1543,  and  not  renounced  even  by  the  learned  for 
half  a  century  more  —  had  universal  possession  of 
the  European  imagination  at  the  time  when  Luther 
preached.  All  men  judged  of  the  relations  of  earth 
and  sky  by  the  same  immediate  impressions  of  un- 
aided sense  which  dictated  the  first  chapter  of  Gen- 
esis. Under  these  conditions,  not  only  was  the  Mo- 
saic cosmogony  accepted  as  a  matter  of  course,  but 
little  difficulty  was  felt  in  conforming  to  even  the 
narrow  Hebrew  conception  of  the  actual  system  of 
the  world,  —  a  subterranean  Hades,  stored  with  in- 
carcerated spirits,  and  a  heaven  rising  in  succes- 
sive tiers  for  the  reception  of  souls  in  light,  and  the 
personal  abode  of  Christ  and  God ;  a  place  pictured 
rather  as  an  Oriental  edifice  than  as  an  astronomical 
creation.  Those  caverns  under  the  earth,  and  those 
halls  above,  supplied  a  local  hell  and  heaven,  which 
rendered  easy  all  the  dogmatic  imagery  respecting 
the  ascent  and  descent  of  beings  from  province  to 
province  of  this  realm.  And,  while  the  earth  main- 
tained its  station  in  the  midst,  no  misgiving  was  en- 
countered in  representing  the  spectacle  of  the  Advent 
and  Incarnation  as  a  central  object  of  attention  to 
the  universe,  and  the  Redemption  as  a  fact  not  in 
the  interests  of  one  world,  but  in  the  history  of  all. 
But  by  the  telescope  and  the  calculus  these  concep- 
tions are  set  afloat  and  scattered  through  infinite 
30* 


354  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

space,  with  no  structural  picture  to  give  them  cohe- 
rence and  support  their  relations. 

From  the  architecture,  turn  to  the  chronology  of 
nature.  In  the  sixteenth  century,  no  facts  were 
known  demanding  more  than  some  five  or  six  thou- 
sand years  for  the  past  duration  of  the  globe ;  nor  was 
there  any  inducement  to  assign  to  different  dates  the 
origin  of  man  and  of  his  abode,  or  of  this  planet  and 
the  heavenly  bodies.  Hence,  not  only  was  there 
no  hypothesis  of  development  to  embarrass  by  its 
rivalry  the  literal  theory  of  creation,  but  no  scruple 
was  present  to  hinder  the  compression  of  the  whole 
birth  of  things  into  six  days.  Thus  the  Sabbath 
rested  undisturbed  on  its  primitive  foundation.  That 
the  Creative  Power,  having  framed  all  else,  should 
culminate  in  man,  was  no  hard  conception  to  those 
who  deemed  this  earth  the  metropolis  of  the  universe. 
Through  the  researches  of  geologists,  this  whole  sys- 
tem of  conceptions  has  become  untenable.  The  pro- 
cess of  creation  has  escaped  all  limits  of  chronology, 
and  burst  into  infinitude  of  time,  as  well  as  space; 
and  no  Sedgwick  or  Buckland  of  the  Church  can 
henceforth  read,  without  rationalizing  interpretation, 
the  passage  of  the  Decalogue  inscribed  above  every 
altar :  —  "  For  in  six  days  the  Lord  made  heaven  and 
earth,  the  sea,  and  all  that  in  them  is,  and  rested  on 
ike  seventh  day ;  wherefore  the  Lord  blessed  the  sev- 
enth day  and  hallowed  it." 

During  the  last  three  centuries,  the  knowledge  of 
the  earth's  surface,  and  of  the  tribes  that  people  it, 
has  been  vastly  extended.  The  natural  history  of 
man,  deriving  light  from  new  sources,  and  especially 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          355 

from  the  contrasts  and  affinities  of  different  lan- 
guages, has  become  the  object  of  a  distinct  science. 
We  shall  not  be  accused  of  over-statement  if  we  af- 
firm, as  the  result  of  this  change,  that  the  question  as 
to  the  unity  of  human  species,  their  descent  from  a 
single  pair,  is  a  perfectly  open  one.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  decision  of  the  late  Dr.  Prichard,  the  weight 
of  opinion  is  probably  in  favor  of  the  distribution  of 
mankind  into  several  races,  originally  distinct.  The 
topic,  at  all  events,  is  not  prohibited  even  by  the 
"  Index  Expurgatorius  "  of  conventional  theology,  and 
was  freely  discussed  between  Arnold  and  Whately 
in  their  correspondence.  Any  influence  which  should 
discourage  such  inquiries  would  be  inimical  to  all 
the  higher  interests  of  society ;  and  any  intellectual 
clergyman  would  treat  with  just  scorn  the  imper- 
tinent bigot  who  should  accuse  him  of  heresy  for 
maintaining  that  a  Papuan  savage  was  of  a  differ- 
ent stock  from  the  Caucasians.  Yet  is  the  bigot  so 
entirely  illogical  ?  Is  not  the  Church  the  commis- 
sioned medium  of  salvation  ?  is  not  salvation  condi- 
tional on  regeneration  ?  is  not  regeneration  the  re- 
versal and  obliteration  of  birth-sin  ?  is  not  birth-sin 
an  affair  of  lineage,  transmitted  from  the  corruption 
of  Adam's  nature  ?  and  was  not  that  corruption  the 
penalty  of  the  fall  ?  If,  therefore,  we  are  not  all  the 
children  of  one  stock,  either  there  must  have  been 
many  Edens,  and  Satan  must  have  offered  a  plural- 
ity of  apples  to  numerous  Eves,  black,  red,  and  white ; 
or  else  the  curse,  and  with  it  the  counteracting  re- 
demption, must  be  valid  for  only  one  tribe.  In  both 
cases,  the  dogmatic  scheme  of  the  Church  suffers 


356  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

from  manifest  embarrasssment ;  in  the  first,  from  an 
incredible  hypothesis,  too  absurd  to  name  except  for 
argument's  sake ;  in  the  second,  from  a  vast  system 
of  missionary  effort,  no  less  than  of  speculative  belief, 
resting  entirely  on  the  universality  of  certain  propo- 
sitions respecting  the  lost  condition  of  man  through 
hereditary  contamination.  The  Reformers  would 
have  staked  their  entire  religion,  without  hesitation, 
on  the  assertion  that  all  men  are  sons  of  Adam. 
Does  any  instructed  man,  in  the  present  day,  feel  that 
on  such  a  basis  Christianity  may  fitly  rest  ? 

Examples  might  be  multiplied  without  end.  Dr. 
Buckland  can  tell  us  whether  any  change  of  opinion 
has  taken  place  respecting  the  Noachic  deluge  ; 
whether  it  was  always  thought  a  thing  indifferent  to 
Church  theology  to  defend  the  doctrine  of  a  univer- 
sal flood,  or  to  give  it  up ;  or  whether  any  advocate 
was  ever  found  so  indiscreet  as  to  work  up  an  eager 
mass  of  evidence  and  hypothesis  on  this  point,  im- 
pressed more  with  the  exultation  of  the  triumphant 
divine  than  with  the  calmness  of  the  inquiring  phi- 
losopher.* And  Bishop  Thirlwall  could  pronounce 
whether  the  light  thrown  by  comparative  philology 
on  the  affinities  of  languages  and  the  filiations  of 
mankind  affects  at  all  the  quiet  credence  with  which, 
a  century  ago,  the  "  Inspired  Narrative  "  of  the  con- 
fusion of  tongues  was  read  by  the  learned,  no  less 

*  See  Buckland's  "  Reliquice  Diluviance ;  Observations  on  the  Organ- 
ic Remains  contained  in  Caves,  Fissures,  and  Diluvial  Gravel  and  other 
Geological  Phenomena,  attesting  the  Action  of  a  Universal  Deluge."  1 823. 
Compare  Buckland's  Bridgewater  Treatise,  Vol.  I.  p.  94,  note,  where 
this  "attestation''  is  withdrawn. 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  357 

than  the  unlearned ;  and  whether,  in  general,  the 
modern  admission  of  a  mythical  element  in  the  rec- 
ords of  ancient  nations  can  easily  be  repelled  from 
the  Hebrew  literature,  so  as  to  place  its  monuments 
in  the  exceptional  position  of  having  no  ante-histor- 
ical period.  These  particular  features  in  primeval 
history  have,  it  is  true,  no  immediate  reference  to  the 
dogmatic  system  of  the  Church,  but  they  belong  to 
the  same  record  that  supplies  the  whole  scheme  with 
its  theological  data ;  and  it  is  impossible  to  throw 
open  to  discussion  the  questions  they  involve,  yet 
retain  the  adjacent  topics  under  the  key  of  ecclesias- 
tical authority. 

Again,  let  it  be  considered  what  a  revolution  has 
taken  place  in  human  physiology  and  psychology, 
bringing  under  the  dominion  of  ascertained  law  a 
host  of  phenomena,  once  familiarly  referred  to  pre- 
ternatural agency.  The  mere  removal  of  demonol- 
ogy  from  modern  belief  has  introduced  a  wholly  new 
condition  of  the  human  imagination,  and  alienated 
it  from  many  conceptions  formerly  esteemed  insep- 
arable from  orthodox  faith.  In  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries,  the  sphere  yet  open  for  Satanic 
interposition  in  the  affairs  of  the  world  was  not 
small,  precarious,  invisible,  —  the  mere  secret^sugges- 
tion  of  a  wicked  thought,  which  after  all  might  as 
well  be  indigenous  as  foreign,  —  but  various  and  pal- 
pable ;  recognized  not  in  creeds  only,  but  in  medicine 
and  law;  and  furnishing  formulas  of  expression  to 
the  learned,  and  a  thousand  usages  to  the  people  of 
every  class.  Lord  Bacon  was  not  above  the  belief 
in  "  possession. "  Sir  Thomas  Browne  regarded  the 


358  MARTINEAU'S  MISCELLANIES. 

denial  of  witchcraft  in  the  light  of  downright  atheism, 
inasmuch  as  the  same  authority  which  reveals  the 
dispensations  of  God  and  his  goodness  declares  no 
less  clearly  the  agency  of  the  false  one  and  the  delu- 
sions of  sorcery.  Witches  were  disposed  of  by  a 
process  of  trial  more  indicative  of  a  susceptible  faith 
than  of  a  very  sensitive  justice  :  they  were  put  into  a 
pair  of  scales,  with  the  parish  Bible  for  a  counter- 
poise, and  their  guilt  or  innocence  decided  by  weight. 
The  more  formal  and  deliberate  procedure  of  the  reg- 
ular courts  affords,  however,  still  stronger  proof  of  the 
tenacity  with  which  this  belief  was  interwoven  with 
the  religious  faith  of  cultivated  men  :  and  the  fact 
that  two  widows  were  hanged  for  witchcraft  in  1665, 
under  the  sentence  of  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  may  help 
us  to  realize  the  entire  change  which  has  befallen 
the  climate  of  modern  thought. 

Yet  no  one,  we  think,  can  look  with  the  mere 
lumen  siccum  of  a  logical  understanding  at  the  argu- 
ments by  which  the  supporters  of  the  doctrine  of 
possession  defended  their  position,  without  confess- 
ing that,  on  the  Church  principle  of  using  all  canon- 
ical Scriptures,  not  merely  "  for  example  of  life  and 
instruction  of  manners, "  but  as  an  "  authority  "  "  to 
establish  any  doctrine, "  their  ground  is  unassailable.* 

*  We  subjoin  the  account  of  the  trial  of  the  two  poor  creatures  referred 
to ;  taking  it  from  S.  T.  Coleridge's  "  Confessions  of  an  Inquiring 
Spirit,"  p.  45. 

"Rose  Cullender  and  Amy  Duny,  widows,  of  Lowestoff,  Suffolk, 
were  tried  for  witchcraft,  on  the  10th  March,  1665,  at  Bury  St.  Ed- 
mond's.  Sir  M.  Hale  told  the  jury,  '  that  he  would  not  repeat  the 
evidence  unto  them,  lest  by  so  doing  he  should  wrong  the  evidence  on 
the  one  side  or  the  other.  Only  this  acquainted  them,  that  they  had  two 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  359 

"  Let  a  man, "  says  Coleridge,  "  be  once  fully  per- 
suaded that  there  is  no  difference  between  the  two 
positions,  '  The  Bible  contains  1he  religion  revealed 
by  God,'  and  '  Whatever  is  contained  in  the  Bible 
is  religion,  and  was  revealed  by  God';  and  that 
whatever  can  be  said  of  the  Bible,  collectively  taken, 
may  and  must  be  said  of  each  and  every  sentence  of 
the  Bible,  taken  for  and  by  itself,  —  and  I  no  longer 
wonder  at  these  paradoxes.  I  only  object  to  the 
inconsistency  of  those  who  profess  the  same  belief, 
and  yet  affect  to  look  down  with  a  contemptuous  or 
compassionate  smile  on  John  Wesley  for  rejecting 
the"  Copernican  system  as  incompatible  therewith ; 
or  who  exclaim,  '  Wonderful! '  when  they  hear  that 
Sir  Matthew  Hale  sent  a  crazy  old  woman  to  the 
gallows  in  honor  of  the  Witch  of  Endor.  In  the 

things  to  inquire  after :  first,  whether  or  no  these  children  were  be- 
witched ;  secondly,  whether  the  prisoners  at  the  bar  were  guilty  of  it. 

" '  That  there  were  such  creatures  as  witches,  he  made  no  doubt  at  all. 
For,  first,  the  Scriptures  had  affirmed  so  much.  Secondly,  the  wisdom  of 
all  nations  had  provided  laws  against  such  persons,  which  is  an  argument  of 
their  confidence  in  such  a  crime.  And  such  hath  been  the  judgment  of 
this  kingdom,  as  appears  by  that  act  of  Parliament  which  hath  pro- 
vided punishments  proportionable  to  the  quality  of  the  offence.  And 
desired  them  strictly  to  observe  their  evidence;  and  desired  the  great 
•God  of  heaven  to  direct  their  hearts  in  the  weighty  thing  they  had  in 
hand.  For  to  condemn  the  innocent,  and  to  let  the  guilty  go  free,  were 
both  an  abomination  to  the  Lord. '  They  were  found  guilty  on  thirteen 
indictments.  The  bewitched  got  well  of  all  their  pains  the  moment 
after  the  conviction  ;  only  Susan  Chandler  felt  a  pain  like  pricking  of 
pins  in  her  stomach.  The  judge  and  all  the  court  felt  fully  satisfied 
with  the  verdict,  and  thereupon  gave  judgment  against  the  witches,  that 
they  should  be  hanged.  They  were  much  urged  to  confess,  but  would 
not.  They  were  executed  on  Monday,  17th  March  following,  but 
they  confessed  nothing.  "  —  State  Trials,  VI.  p.  700. 


360  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

latter  instance  it  might,  I  admit,  have  been  an  erro- 
neous (though  even  at  this  day  the  all  but  universal- 
ly received)  interpretation  of  the  word  which  we  have 
rendered  by  witch;  —  but  I.  challenge  these  divines 
and  their  adherents  to  establish  the  compatibility  of  a 
belief  in  the  modern  astronomy  and  natural  philoso- 
phy with  their  and  Wesley's  doctrine  respecting  the 
inspired  Scriptures,  without  reducing  the  doctrine 
itself  to  a  plaything  of  wax,  or  rather  to  a  half-inflated 
bladder,  which,  when  the  contents  are  rarefied  in  the 
heat  of  rhetorical  generalities,  swells  out  round,  and 
without  a  crease  or  wrinkle  ;  but  bring  it  into  the  cool 
temperature  of  particulars,  and  you  may  press,  and 
as  it  were  except,  what  part  you  like  —  so  it  be  but 
one  part  at  a  time  —  between  your  thumb  and  finger." 
The  state  of  belief,  in  relation  to  demoniacal  pos- 
session, at  the  commencement  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  is  evidenced,  not  merely  by  casual  and  pri- 
vate examples,  but  by  the  public  statutes  of  the 
Church  of  England.  In  the  seventy-second  Ecclesi- 
astical Canon,  the  practice  of  exorcism  by  the  clergy 
is  placed  under  regulation :  it  is  classed  with  other 
offices  of  the  ministry,  —  such  as  the  keeping  of  fasts 
and  holding  meetings  for  sermons,  and  is  submitted 
to  the  same  restraints  ;  that  is,  the  license  and  direc- 
tion of  the  bishop  of  the  diocese  must  be  first  ob- 
tained and  had  under  his  hand  and  seal,  ere  a  clergy- 
man is  to  attempt,  under  pretence  of  possession  or 
obsession,  by  fasting  and  prayer,  to  cast  out  any  devil 
or  devils.  We  would  recommend  to  the  Bishop  of 
Exeter  the  revival  of  this  neglected  episcopal  prerog- 
ative :  this  reserved  right  of  expelling  or  retaining 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          361 

devils  is  no  small  part  of  the  power  to  open  and  shut. 
Why  let  it  lie  idle  ?  If  exorcism  is  not  a  sacrament, 
it  bears  comparison  with  one :  it  casts  out  Satan, 
while  baptism  casts  out  his  works.  Is  it  not  a  part 
of  the  Apostolic  commission,  —  "  Cast  out  devils  ; 
freely  ye  have  received,  freely  give  "  ?  Why  take  up 
the  transmitted  authority  by  halves,  —  an  authority 
given  in  the  Gospels  and  reaffirmed  by  the  Canons? 
Did  not  the  same  voice  which  commanded  the 
twelve  to  baptize  command  them  to  exorcise?  The 
operation  of  both  offices  is  preternatural  alike :  and 
as  even  false  prophets  and  apostles  could  cast  out 
demons,  there  is  no  pretence  for  saying  that  the  func- 
tion is  beyond  the  reach  of  Christ's  true  represent- 
atives on  earth.  Where,  we  ask,  can  this  parallelism 
be  broken  ?  And  if  the  progress  of  knowledge  has 
put  every  sane  man,  though  an  ecclesiastic,  out  of 
condition  for  speaking  of  exorcism  with  a  grave  face, 
and  forced  every  critic,  however  orthodox,  to  explain 
away,  as  best  he  can,  the  favorite  evidence,  with  the 
first  three  Evangelists,  of  their  Lord's  Messiahship, 
viz.  the  instinctive  recognition  of  Him  by  the  devils 
who  met  his  eye  or  heard  his  name,  —  is  it  to  be 
expected  that  kindred  conceptions,  lying  within  the 
same  scheme,  should  be  as  welcome  to  the  minds  of 
men  as  they  were  three  centuries  ago  ? 

These  changes  in  the  whole  intellectual  atmosphere 
of  the  age  are  patent  to  all  the  world.  They  affect 
the  general  body  of  the  educated  laity,  so  as  to  place 
them  in  the  most  painful  or  the  most  dangerous  of 
all  positions,  —  a  position  above  the  faith  which  they 
profess.  Such  men  have  to  make  excuses  for  that 
31 


362  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

which  should  penetrate  and  rule  their  nature ;  and  to 
patronize  where  they  should  adore.  The  somewhat 
narrow,  though  scholarly,  education  of  the  clergy 
may  often  screen  them  from  the  full  effect  of  this 
popular  light  of  the  time.  But  then,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  great  advance  made  during  the  last  half- 
century  in  the  theological  sciences  is  known,  for  the 
most  part,  to  them  alone ;  and  if  this  has  not  largely 
modified  their  whole  conception  of  the  Christian 
faith,  and  made  them  conscious  of  many  a  doubt 
within  their  system,  and  a  whole  world  of  thought 
beyond  it,  the  effect  has  been  very  different  from  that 
which  the  devoutest  and  most  sober  minds  have  ex- 
perienced in  every  other  Protestant  country.  The 
light  which  has  been  thrown  on  the  origin  and 
structure  of  the  earliest  Christian  records,  —  on  the 
presence  within  them  of  purely  local  and  human  el- 
ements, —  on  the  several  streams  of  Jewish,  Oriental, 
and  Platonic  influence,  which  blended  with  divine 
constituents  to  form  the  creeds  of  Christendom, — 
has  rendered  necessary  a  freer  and  larger  method  for 
disengaging  the  permanent  from  the  transitory  in  the 
Church  than  was  possible  to  the  criticism  of  the  six- 
teenth century.  To  those  who  study  in  earnest  for 
holy  orders,  this  is  no  secret.  And  so  keenly  do  they 
feel  the  discrepancy  between  what  they  must  prom- 
ise to  teach  and  what  they  apprehend  to  be  true,  that 
the  number  is  yearly  increasing  of  candidates  who 
are  repelled  from  the  Church  by  the  conditions  of 
ordination.  These  cases  are  smothered  and  kept 
secret,  as  far  as  possible;  but  to  many  it  is  well 
known  that  they  comprise  a  large  proportion  of  the 


THE    CHURCH    OF    ENGLAND. 


363 


finest  genius  and  devoutest  conscience  that  might  of 
late  years  have  been  gained  to  the  service  of  the  al- 
tar. One  after  another  have  such  men  been  brought, 
in  the  deep  mood  of  holy  faith  and  discipleship,  to 
the  very  threshold  of  the  Church ;  but  when  the  mo- 
ment of  entrance  came,  the  low  and  narrow  portal 
would  not  let  the  high  thought  and  the  great  heart 
pass.  Minds  of  puny  stature,  or  of  a  thin  subtlety, 
or  of  compressible  scrupulosity,  slip  through ;  while 
natures  at  once  of  massive  reality  and  of  divine  pro- 
portions are  excluded :  the  priest  glides  in ;  but  the 
prophet  stands  without.  Who  can  wonder  at  the 
spreading  impression,  that  statesmen  and  high  eccle- 
siastics fear  and  hate  to  see  the  consecration  of  ear- 
nest genius  to  religion  !  that  they  wish  the  Church  to 
be  a  refuge  for  mediocrity !  and  that,  so  long  as  sa- 
gacious dulness  or  pliant  laxity  shall  find  no  hin- 
derance,  they  are  content  to  let  the  Christianity  of 
England  lie  far  beyond  the  average  intelligence  of 
her  people,  and  sink  into  an  object  of  unbelief  to  the 
learned,  contempt  to  the  intellectual,  and  shame  and 
sorrow  to  the  devout !  If  they  think  by  such  means 
to  clear  away  all  troublesome  spirits,  and  maintain 
a  dignified,  but  unproductive  repose,  even  this  un- 
worthy policy  experience  will  convict  of  mistake. 
There  are  other  dangers  to  her  establishment,  and 
to  the  State  with  which  it  is  connected,  greater  than 
can  arise  from  eminent  and  powerful  personal  quali- 
ties in  its  ministers.  The  erratic  energies  of  origi- 
nal minds  are,  no  doubt,  difficult  to  adjust  with  the 
drowsy  persistency  of  an  aristocratic  Church ;  and 
that  Beresfords  and  Blomfields  are  not  anxious  for 


364  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  companionship  of  young  seers,  with  fresh  eye, 
and  brotherhoods  under  vows  of  piety  and  of  pover- 
ty, is  far  from  strange.  The  decent  and  tasteful  for- 
malism which  with  inoffensive  elocution  drops  the 
heavenly  word  upon  the  earth-cold  pavement  of  a 
cathedral;  which  thinks  infinite  questions  honored 
with  the  vehicle  of  gentlemanly  breath  ;  which  is 
content  if  burning  truths  but  melt  a  little  way  into 
the  icy  heart  of  fashion  ere  they  become  extinct, — 
is  preferred,  on  very  intelligible  grounds,  to  a  deeper 
and  more  insatiable  fervor.  Yet  even  to  the  tem- 
poral peace  of  a  Church  there  is  a  peril  more  alarm- 
ing than  would  be  the  genius  of  Pascal,  the  visions 
of  Bunyan,  and  the  enthusiasm  of  Wesley.  When 
men,  who  begin  life  with  the  passions  of  the  hust- 
ings, end  it  with  the  professions  of  the  saint ;  when 
the  pamphleteers  of  a  faction  become  successors  of 
the  Apostles  and  vicars  of  Christ;  when  the  pertur- 
bations of  personal  temper  appear  beneath  the  holy 
and  oily  surface  of  episcopal  address,  and,  under 
plea  of  zeal  for  souls,  the  mitred  party-leader  finds 
his  occupation  once  again,  —  the  repose  of  the  Church 
is  not  less  broken  than  if  a  Baxter  had  been  pro- 
nounced orthodox,  or  a  Whitefield  had  not  carried  off 
his  converted  colliers  to  the  conventicle.  The  high- 
er order  of  minds  may  demand  too  much  freedom, 
but  the  lower  do  not  always  prove  conveniently  pli- 
ant. If  they  secure  you  against  the  chances  of  a 
grand  faith,  they  do  not  save  you  from  the  danger  of 
a  mean  superstition  ;  and  the  aggressive  fervor  of  the 
one  may  need  less  vigilance  than  the  proud  obstina- 
cy of  the  other. 


THE    CHURCH    OF    ENGLANfD. 


365 


Religious  enthusiasm  is  the  outburst  of  an  indi- 
vidual's mind,  and,  radiating  from  his  spirit,  passes 
beyond  this  living  centre  in  fainter  waves  away.  A 
sacerdotal  superstition,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the 
fixed  passion  of  a  class  which  remains  permanent, 
and  whose  collective  spirit  can  but  slowly  change. 
From  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  it  exists  under 
conditions  inaccessible  to  reason.  It  relies  for  sup- 
port on  the  class  of  feelings  which  have  subjugated 
men  to  thaumaturgic  imposture ;  and  it  so  blends 
the  interested  pride  with  possibly  the  disinterested 
faith  of  the  priesthood,  as  to  produce  a  certain  am- 
phibious passion  between  hypocrisy  and  convic- 
tion, found  peculiarly  in  the  decline  of  religions. 
That  passion  is,  perhaps,  of  all  human  influences  the 
most  difficult  for  the  State  to  encounter.  It  is  nei- 
ther temporal  nor  spiritual ;  it  has  neither  the  pru- 
dence of  reason,  nor  the  generosity  of  faith ;  it  is 
closed  alike  to  persuasion  and  to  affection ;  it  lives 
neither  on  the  land  nor  in  the  stream ;  but  evades 
you  in  the  slime,  where  the  produce  of  the  secular 
earth  grows  rank,  and  the  waters  of  a  pure  enthusi- 
asm lie  stagnant.  This  monster  passion  is  growing 
huge  in  England  just  now;  —  "Behemoth,  in  the 
covert  of  the  reed  and  of  the  fens,  that  trusteth  he 
can  draw  up  Jordan  into  his  mouth  "  ;  but  "  from  the 
mountains  shall  new  rivers  come  down,"  and,  "  like 
a  lion  by  the  swelling  of  Jordan,"  he  will  be  borne 
away. 

What,  then,  is  the  duty  of  the  State  towards  the 
Church  in  a  crisis  like  the  present?  —  to  represent, 
by  a  more  intelligible  demeanor  than  ever  before,  the 
31* 


366  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

alienated  affections  of  the  country ;  and,  in  relation 
to  dogmatic  conditions  of  fellowship,  to  take  a 
course  directly  opposite  to  the  tendency  of  the  agi- 
tating ecclesiastics.  The  sacerdotal  party  are  strug- 
gling for  a  narrowed  creed  ;  the  Judicial  Committee 
have  wisely  vindicated  the  principle  of  latitude. 
The  Anglicans  contend  for  dogmatic  unity ;  let  the 
State  boldly  demand  provision  for  variety.  The 
government  is  trustee  in  this  matter,  not  only  for  a 
Church  already  marked  internally  by  wide  diversities, 
but  for  a  nation  of  which  nearly  one  half  has,  at  dif- 
ferent periods,  been  injuriously  driven  from  her  pale. 
The  civil  disabilities  of  these  excluded  classes  hav- 
ing been  removed,  their  ecclesiastical  excommunica- 
tion cannot  safely  remain  neglected  in  any  future 
legislation  for  the  Church ;  and  so  far  from  any  con- 
traction of  the  terms  of  communion  being  for  an  in- 
stant entertained,  a  gradual  enlargement  of  them 
ought  to  be  steadily  enforced  by  the  government. 
Were  all  harmonious  and  healthful  within  the  pale, 
there  might  be  some  fair  excuse  for  leaving  in  quiet 
action  what  answered  at  least  the  wants  of  a  defi- 
nite majority  in  the  country ;  but  it  is  notorious  that 
if  to-morrow  all  the  sects  of  the  nation  were  thrust 
into  the  Church,  its  disunion  and  diversities  of  creed 
would  be  no  greater  than  at  present ;  and  its  only  de- 
cent plea  against  comprehension  is  entirely  forfeited. 
Besides,  a  state  cannot,  lend  itself  as  a  party  to  the- 
ological disputes,  but  is  bound  to  estimate  the  Church 
purely  by  its  moral  efficiency, — its  competency  to 
express  and  sustain  the  highest  life  of  the  people,  to 
hold  and  train  their  affections,  and  to  educate  them 


THE    CHURCH    OF    ENGLAND. 

according  to  their  consciences,  in  their  obligations  as 
citizens  of  this  world  and  children  of  God. 

If  there  be  in  a  country  an  organized  community 
of  Christians,  enjoying  the  confidence  and  sympathy 
of  the  nation  at  large,  and  able,  by  appeal  to  rever- 
ential feeling,  to  secure  those  moralities  of  the  social 
state  which  law  can  defend  only  by  coercion,  we 
know  of  no  valid  theoretical  objection  against  the 
endowment  of  such  a  body  by  the  legislature ;  and 
if  its  members  choose  to  include  within  their  aim 
other  ends,  foreign  to  the  purposes  of  government, 
—  such  as  the  removal  of  mystic  stains  by  mystic 
rites,  —  let  them  be  free  to  do  so,  provided  no  dam- 
age is  thus  done  to  the  prior  state  requisites.  But 
this  proviso  must  be  stringently  enforced ;  and  if 
the  supplementary  ends  are  of  a  nature  to  prejudice 
the  primary ;  if  they  comprise  dogmas  and  ceremo- 
nies by  which  the  range  of  social  agency  is  restrict- 
ed and  its  integrity  lowered;  above  all,  if  they  so 
withdraw  the  mind  of  the  clergyman  from  the  rational 
and  moral  interests  of  society  as  to  convert  him  in- 
to an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  national  education  and 
culture,  except  on  the  exclusive  terms  of  his  profes- 
sional speciality,  —  then  the  alliance  is  justly  forfeited, 
and  the  State,  failing  to  gain  the  stipulated  benefits, 
reclaims  of  right  the  vested  endowment.  Can  any 
candid  observer  affirm  that  the  Established  Church 
fairly  performs  the  national  function  intrusted  to 
her  ?  Is  she  not  at  this  moment  spending  all  her 
zeal  on  disputes  which,  but  for  their  possible  results, 
the  nation  regards  with  contemptuous  indifference  ? 
Have  her  teachings  been  such,  her  methods  of  oper- 
ation such,  as  to  retain  in  her  faith  and  power  the 


368  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

great  working  class  of  this  country  ?  She  complains 
perhaps  of  the  copresence  of  rival  sects,  that  break 
and  paralyze  her  energies.  But  did  she  not  herself 
disown  them  and  drive  them  out?  and  have  they 
not  had,  in  her  coldness  or  narrowness,  such  suffi- 
cient cause  to  quit  her  communion,  that  their  found- 
ers are,  for  the  most  part,  remembered  with  a  just 
reverence,  accounted  as  the  worthies  of  our  histo- 
ry, and  acknowledged  to  have  done  a  good  work  ? 
To  what,  so  much  as  to  the  incompetency  and  mis- 
management of  the  Church,  are  we  to  ascribe  the 
state  of  things  so  forcibly  described  by  Mr.  Thorn, 
in  the  following  page  ? 

"  The  Christian  Church  has  instruments  enough,  and  self- 
sacrifice  enough,  to  parcel  the  world  among  her  ministers, 
to  break  up  the  close  layers  of  its  masses  so  that,  instead 
of  only  like  consorting  with  like,  and  ignorance  and  vice 
pressed  together,  lying  in  thick  strata  on  one  another,  hu- 
man beings,  instead  of  dense,  impermeable  clusters,  should 
stand  forth,  individual  and  distinct,  so  that  air  and  light 
could  circulate  around  them,  and  not  one  soul  be  left  with- 
out living  contact,  through  a  brother's  touch,  with  the 
sympathies  of  earth  and  the  supports  of  heaven.  But  the 
Christian  Church  cannot  do  this  as  it  now  exists.  With  its 
conflicting  creeds,  and  rival  interests,  and  deadly  jealousies, 
it  cannot  unite  its  devoted  servants,  and  send  them  forth  in 
one  spirit  to  divide  the  toil  between  them.  If  we  were  all 
of  one  heart,  believing  that  holy  affections  are  the  only 
powers  that  can  enlighten  and  regenerate  fallen  men,  there 
might  not  be  a  spot  in  all  this  land  in  which  even  an  indi- 
vidual could  be  found  without  the  light  and  love  of  a  broth- 
er's spirit  bent  full  upon  him.  And  why  is  not  this  the 
case  now  ?  Because,  in  consequence  of  our  divisions 
about  doctrines,  Christianity  cannot  be  locally  applied.  In 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.  369 

that  fact  lies  mainly  the  explanation  of  the  spiritual  condi- 
tion and  destitution  of  the  people.  A  parochial  adminis- 
tration of  Christianity,  a  beautiful  and  competent  idea,  is 
now  an  impossibility.  A  catholic  religion  requires  a  catho- 
lic church ;  but  we  have  only  Roman  catholic  churches, 
and  Church  of  England  churches,  and  Calvinistic  churches, 
and  other  reciprocally  repelling  and  antagonistic  churches. 
If  Christianity  was  one  power,  and  could  use  the  world's 
wisdom  of  the  division  of  labor,  it  could  assign  to  each 
manageable  district  its  own  responsible  agency,  sufficient  to 
flood  it  with  light.  But  this  cannot  be  where  you  will  hard- 
ly find  two  neighboring  houses  in  which  the  same  theory  of 
salvation  is  accepted.  And  so  our  Christian  churches  gath- 
er their  isolated  worshippers  from  all  quarters ;  and  in  our 
large  towns,  at  least,  no  man  has  an  allotted  field,  and  no 
church  and  no  person  is  charged  with  the  spiritual  condition 
of  any  spot.  And  thus  our  churches  sit  apart,  exerting 
some  attraction  over  scattered  individuals  of  like  affinities 
among  the  dispersed  multitudes,  but  with  no  power  of 
thoi'oughly  occupying  the  Field  of  the  World,  each  cultivat- 
ing its  own  corner  of  the  vineyard.  And  as  with  that  vil- 
lage of  Samaria  which  would  not  receive  our  Lord  because 
his  face  was  as  though  he  was  going  to  Jerusalem,  there 
are  places  in  Christian  lands  where  disciples,  earnest  and 
beloved  as  James  and  John,  would  not  be  received ;  and, 
probably,  like  James  and  John,  might  know  so  little  what 
spirit  they  are  of,  as  to  be  ready  to  call  down  fire  from 
heaven  in  their  Master's  name.  These  are  the  consequen- 
ces of  established  creeds  and  churches,  —  and  this  the  price 
we  pay  for  a  Religion  of  Doctrines,  instead  of  a  religion 
that  looks  only  to  the  spirit  and  the  life;  for  a  religion  of 
saving  orthodoxes,  instead  of  a  religion  of  all-purifying  love. 
The  prophecy  remains  to  be  fulfilled,  and  Christianity  can- 
not occupy  the  world  as  the  waters  cover  the  deep,  because 
Theology  forbids  the  union  and  the  distribution  of  its  pow- 


370  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

ers.  We  have  left  to  Sin  and  Satan  the  advantage  of  the 
principle,  Divide  and  conquer." — Religion,  the  Church,  and 
the  People,  p.  20. 

The  Church  of  England  has  enjoyed  rare  oppor- 
tunities. It  wants  nothing  that  history  can  give  to 
render  it  respectable.  It  lost  little  of  the  external 
dignity  of  the  elder  system,  when  it  opened  a  way 
for  some  infusion  of  energy  from  the  Reformation. 
Its  hierarchy  ascends  by  the  same  gradations,  and  re- 
tains the  same  titles,  as  the  parent  body ;  its  creeds 
are  translations  of  ancient  forms;  its  liturgy  is  a 
provincial  idiom  of  the  language  of  the  universal 
Church.  The  Anglicans  are  right  in  maintaining 
that  it  was  not  of  Protestant  origin,  but  rather  a 
national  graft  detached  from  the  stem  of  so  many 
centuries ;  that  it  did  not  rudely  tear  away,  but 
simply  trained  around  the  local  structure,  the  sacred 
ivy  of  antiquity.  Yet  it  was  not  left  without  the 
purifying  influence  of  a  day  of  persecution,  as  well 
as  the  prolonged  contact  of  more  earnest  and  spirit- 
ual reformers,  who  sometimes  introduced  within  the 
pale  the  self-denying  virtues  and  rude  fervor  that 
are  the  secret  of  popular  power.  The  honorable 
duty  was  devolved  upon  it,  by  the  folly  of  a  king,  of 
being  the  advocate  of  liberty,  and  the  representative 
of  injured  conscience.  It  has  had  the  almost  unin- 
terrupted and  exclusive  command  of  all  the  resources 
and  all  the  distinctions  of  the  ancient  universities, 
and  has  enriched  English  literature  with  some  of  its 
most  cherished  names.  If  ever  a  Church  has  had  a 
chance  of  collecting  into  the  focus  of  its  action  the 
most  various  and  even  opposite  influences  that  can 
sway  the  human  mind,  it  is  the  Church  of  England. 


THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND.          371 

Yet,  at  last,  the  day  is  coming  when  the  account  will 
be  asked  of  these  opportunities.  The  churches  of 
our  forefathers  will  not  be  permanently  left  to  the 
sort  of  teachers  who  are  now  wearying  the  world 
with  their  puerilities,  and  shocking  it  with  their  in- 
tolerance ;  nor  the  ecclesiastical  estates  of  the  nation 
abandoned  to  the  guardianship  which  has  been  so 
shamefully  abused.  To  the  large  and  humiliating 
subject  of  the  Church  temporalities,  we  have  ab- 
stained from  adverting.  Convinced  as  we  are,  that 
what  alone  the  Church  cares  to  teach  has  ceased  to 
be  the  real  religion  of  this  nation,  we  have  not 
thought  it  worth  while  to  enter  into  the  abuses  of 
secular  administration.  The  exposure  of  the  Eccle- 
siastical Commission  is  fresh  in  every  one's  recollec- 
tion. And  in  Mr.  Beeston's  sensible  pamphlet  will 
be  found  a  series  of  facts  as  to  the  management  of 
episcopal  and  chapter  lands,  which  we  should  think 
it  impossible  to  parallel  in  the  history  of  private 
rapacity  and  corporate  dishonesty. 

"  Raro  antecedentem  scelestum 
Deseruit  pede  Paena  claudo." 

No  one  who  reads  the  statements  to  which  we 
refer  can  believe  that  the  reckoning  will  be  long  de- 
layed ;  and  among  the  chances  of  the  near  future, 
we  esteem  it  not  the  least,  that  an  irresistible  force 
of  opinion  will  support  in  substance  the  prayer  of  a 
Memorial  to  the  Queen,  which  appeared  in  this 
"  Review  "  two  years  ago,  —  for  FREEDOM  OF  CON- 
SCIENCE IN  MATTERS  OF  RELIGISN.  * 

"  Admittance  to  the  Universities  of  Oxford  and 

*  See  the  No.  for  July,  1848,  p.  497. 


372  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

Cambridge,  and  the  liberty  of  worshipping  and  ex- 
pounding the  Scriptures  in  the  churches  of  our 
ancestors,  are  now  made  to  depend  upon  subscrip- 
tion to  certain  articles  of  faith  known  as  the  Thirty- 
nine  Articles  of  the  Church  of  England. 

"  This  test,  when  first  established,  was  a  departure 
from  the  principle  of  the  Protestant  Reformation, 
founded  upon  the  right  of  private  judgment,  without 
which  there  can  be  no  progress  in  religious  truth; 
and  it  led  to  those  lamentable  schisms  which  have 
since  divided  English  Protestants  into  Churchmen 
and  Dissenters  of  various  denominations,  who  would 
otherwise  have  remained  a  united  religious  com- 
munity. These  schisms  are  now  widely  extending, 
from  the  differences  which  have  lately  sprung  up 
within  the  Church  itself  upon  the  meaning  of  the 
Thirty-nine  Articles;  and  we  call  upon  your  Majesty, 
by  removing  this  cause  of  sectarian  distinctions,  as  a 
middle  wall  of  partition  unknown  to  Christianity, 
and  by  promoting  the  application  of  the  divine  pre- 
cepts of  universal  charity,  to  restore  among  your 
Majesty's  subjects  the  '  unity  of  the  spirit  in  the 
bonds  of  peace.' 

"  We  ask  for  the  repeal  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity 
(14  Car.  II.  c.  4) ;  the  abolition  of  all  subscription 
tests  for  admission  to  universities,  the  houses  of  Par- 
liament, or  for  holy  orders ;  and  that  in  the  case  of  all 
churches  built,  endowed,  or  supported  with  public 
money,  the  people,  by  their  local  representatives,  or  in 
their  religious  congregations,  shall  have  a  voice  in  the 
appointment  of  their  own  religious  teachers." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.* 

[From  the  "Westminster  Keview  for  January,  1851.] 

IN  1822,  a  French  philosopher  discovered  the 
grand  law  of  human  progression,  revealed  it  to  ap- 
plauding Paris,  brought  the  history  of  all  civilized 
nations  to  pronounce  it  infallible,  and  computed  from 
it  the  future  course  of  European  society.  The  mind 
of  man,  we  are  assured  by  Auguste  Comte,  passes 
by  invariable  necessity  through  three  stages  of  devel- 
opment;—  the  state  of  religion,  or  fiction;  of  meta- 
physics, or  abstract  thought ;  of  science,  or  positive 

*  1.  Lectures  on  Certain  Difficulties  felt  by  Anglicans  in  submitting 
to  the  Catholic  Church.  By  John  Henry  Newman,  Priest  of  the  Ora- 
tory of  St.  Philip  Neri.  Second  Edition.  London.  1850. 

2.  The  British  Churches  in  Relation  to  the  British  People.    By  Ed- 
ward Miall.    London.     1849. 

3.  Gilbert's  Pamphlets,  including  the  Pope's  Brief ;  Cardinal  Wise- 
man's Pastoral ;  Lord  John  Russell's  Letter,  &c. 

4.  The  Bishop  of  London's  "Charge,  delivered  in  St.  Paul's,  Satur- 
day, Nov.  2d,  1850. 

5.  The  Cardinal  Archbishop  of  Westminster  and  the  new  Hierarchy. 
By  George  Bowyer,  Esq.,  D.  C.  L.    London.    1850. 

6.  Cardinal  Wiseman's  Appeal  to  the  Reason  and  Good  Feeling  of 
the  British  People.    Nov.  19,  1850. 

7.  Lord  Beaumont's  Letter  to  the  Earl  of  Zetland.    Times,  Nov. 
26, 1850. 

32 


374  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

knowledge.*  No  change  in  this  order,  no  return  up- 
on its  steps,  is  possible ;  the  shadow  cannot  retreat 
upon  the  dial,  or  the  man  return  to  the  stature  of  the 
child.  Every  one  who  is  not  behind  the  age  will 
tell  you,  that  he  has  outlived  the  theology  of  his  in- 
fancy and  the  philosophy  of  his  youth,  to  settle  down 
on  a  physical  belief  in  the  ripeness  of  his  powers. 
And  so,  too,  the  world,  passing  from  myth  to  met- 
aphysics, and  from  metaphysics  to  induction,  begins 
with  the  Bible  and  ends  with  the  "  Cours  de  Philo- 
sophic Positive."  To  the  schools  of  the  prophets  suc- 
ceeds "  L'Ecole  Polytechnique  "  ;  and  our  intellect, 
having  surmounted  the  meridians  of  God  and  the 
Soul,  culminates  in  the  apprehension  of  material  na- 
ture. Henceforth  the  problems  so  intensely  attract- 
ive to  speculation,  and  so  variously  answered  by  faith, 
retire  from  the  field  of  thought.  They  have  an  in- 
terest, as  in  some  sense  the  autobiography  of  an 
adolescent  world :  but  they  were  never  to  return  in 
living  action  upon  the  earth. 

In  1850,  the  most  practical  nation  of  Europe, — 
the  nation  in  which  the  high-priest  of  inductive  sci- 
ence was  Chancellor  nearly  two  centuries  and  a  half 
ago,  —  where  the  law  of  gravitation,  and  the  theory 
of  the  tides,  and  the  aberration  of  light,  were  demon- 
strated, the  circulation  of  the  blood  discovered,  the 
steam-engine  invented,  the  first  railroad  made,  —  the 
nation  of  factories  and  ships,  —  with  instinct  against 
all  hypotheses,  and  impatience  for  every  subtlety,  — 


*  Cours  de  Philosophic  Positive.     lere  Le^on,  p.  3,  et  seqq. 
Le<jon,  p.  653,  et  seqq. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        375 

signs  requisitions  about  the  grace  of  baptism,  holds 
county  meetings  on  the  doctrine  of  Apostolicity, 
demands  leading  articles  on  the  remission  of  sins, 
and  listens  in  crowded  town-halls  to  the  canon  law 
and  the  Tridentine  decrees.  M.  Comte's  law  stands 
aghast.  Since  the  memorable  date  of  his  discovery, 
the  world  must  have  been  altered :  he  found  it  in  its 
last  stage ;  it  is  now  in  its  first :  it  had  then  for  some 
ages  emerged  from  the  last  trail  of  theology ;  it  has 
now  plunged  again  into  the  very  nucleus  of  that  neb- 
ulous light.  The  vaticinations  of  philosophy  on  hu- 
man affairs  are  seldom  more  fortunate  than  studies 
in  the  Apocalypse ;  the  pomp  of  discovery  becomes 
ludicrous  in  the  completeness  of  the  frustration.  In 
the  present  instance,  this  can  be  no  just  matter  of 
surprise  or  regret ;  it  was  a  bold,  and  by  no  means  a 
cheerful  presumption,  that  mankind  could  never  again 
feel  an  interest  in  those  awful  topics  which  have  so 
long  and  deeply  engaged  their  curiosity  and  affec- 
tions. Were  the  prospect  ever  so  inviting  of  such 
an  advance  into  the  maturity  of  reason,  a  shade  of 
melancholy  wonder  would  fall  back  on  the  long  in- 
fancy of  the  race.  We  would  not  willingly,  for  the 
most  brilliant  promise  of  the  future,  be  made  utterly 
ashamed  of  the  past.  But  if,  as  Comte's  law  would 
persuade  us,  the  whole  career  of  religion  on  the  earth 
is  but  the  action  of  a  nursery  drama ;  if,  until  it  is 
played  out,  the  real  business  of  this  world  cannot  be- 
gin ;  if  the  energies  displayed  in  it  pursue  illusions, 
and  are  barren  as  the  tossing  of  the  arms  in  dreams,  — 
with  what  sad  eye  must  we  look  on  the  greater  part 
of  human  history  !  The  faith,  which  is  the  first  ce- 


376  MARTINEAU'S  MISCELLANIES. 

ment  of  nations  and  source  of  law,  is  but  the  trick 
of  nature's  police  for  cheating  them  into  order.  The 
poetry  which  issues  from  mythology  and  leads  to 
history,  springs  from  a  root  that  bears  no  truth.  The 
greatest  revolutions  the  world  has  ever  seen  have 
broken  forth  from  Jerusalem,  from  Mecca,  from  Wit- 
tenberg, to  sweep  over  the  earth  without  a  meaning, 
and  pass  away.  The  old  Hebrew  race  survives,  tes- 
tifying to  nothing,  but  perfectly  fulfilling  its  destiny 
by  selling  quills  and  buying  old  clothes.  The  Church 
of  Rome,  of  all  institutions  the  most  august  and  du- 
rable,—  which  crosses  the  chasm  between  ancient  and 
modern  times,  and  the  ocean  between  the  New  and 
Old  World;  which  has  cost  mankind  more  thought 
and  treasure,  and  given  them  a  more  wonderful  guid- 
ance, than  any  earlier  or  later  agency,  —  has  been  but 
an  empty  presence,  the  richest  pageant  in  the  carni- 
val of  folly.  All  the  thought  and  genius  spent  on 
questions  of  faith,  and  inspired  by  the  sentiments  of 
devotion,  have  been  wasted  and  misapplied :  they 
come  down  to  us,  not  for  our  help,  but  for  our  warn- 
ing ;  and  if  we  admire  them,  we  catch  no  high  con- 
tagion of  wisdom.  In  short,  if  all  the  divinity,  all 
the  speculative  philosophy,  all  the  poetry  and  rec- 
ords of  religion,  are  to  be  banished  to  the  juvenile  li- 
brary of  the  world,  what  literature  remains  to  be  the 
heritage  of  its  maturity  ?  A  theory  which  treats  the 
"  theological  condition  "  of  the  human  mind  as  one 
which  is  to  be  outgrown,  exhibits  history  in  the  drea- 
riest light,  as  a  confused  waste  of  unproductive  activ- 
ity and  misguided  faculty.  We  know  of  nothing  to 
countenance  such  a  contemptuous  interpretation  of 


THE  BATTLE  OP  THE  CHURCHES.        377 

the  historical  development  of  mankind ;  or  to  encour- 
age the  belief  that  the  passions,  which  direct  them- 
selves on  supernatural  objects,  have  spent  their  force. 
Their  partial  and  local  decadence,  a  phenomenon 
invariably  marking,  not  the  advance,  but  the  decline 
of  national  life,  has  hitherto  been  succeeded  by  some 
wider  renewal  of  their  power.  They  have  shown 
themselves  capable  of  coexisting  with  the  greatest 
vigor  of  intellect,  the  highest  style  of  character,  and 
the  most  various  capacity  for  thought  or  for  affairs. 
If  we  are  amazed  at  the  absurdities  to  which  they 
sometimes  commit  themselves,  we  find  a  parallel  in 
the  superstitions  of  the  dry  reason ;  and  the  devotee, 
who  expects  miracles  from  a  saint's  bones,  is  not 
more  credulous  than  the  mesmerist,  who  undertakes 
to  read  a  newspaper  through  a  brick  wall.  If  we 
complain  of  the  dissensions  produced  by  rival  creeds, 
we  are  met  by  the  more  fatal  disintegration  effected 
by  sceptic  egotism :  and  must  confess  that  the  dis- 
ruption of  grand  masses  of  society,  as  at  the  Refor- 
mation, is  less  terrible  than  the  silent  dissolution  of 
all  moral  and  ideal  cohesion.  And  however  mon- 
strous the  crimes  into  which  ecclesiastical  passions 
betray  men,  they  are,  after  all,  less  revolting  than  the 
loathsome  atrocities  of  periods  lost  to  all  restraints 
of  reverence ;  and  even  the  Papacy  of  the  fourteenth 
and  fifteenth  centuries  appears  innocent,  in  compar- 
ison with  the  government  of  Asia  and  Greece  under 
Alexander's  successors,  and  of  the  Empire  during 
the  decline  of  Rome.  We  cannot  admit  that  the 
theological  turn  of  the  present  excitement  in  Eng- 
land betokens  a  retrograde  course  of  civilization. 
32* 


378  MARTINEAU'S   MISCELLANIES. 

A  true  British  Protestant,  whose  notions  of  "  Pop- 
ery "  are  limited  to  what  he  hears  from  an  Evangel- 
ical curate,  or  has  seen  at  the  opening  of  a  Jesuit 
church,  looks  on  the  whole  system  as  an  obsolete 
mummery ;  and  no  more  believes  that  men  of  sense 
can  seriously  adopt  it,  than  that  they  will  be  convert- 
ed to  the  practice  of  eating  their  dinner  with  a  Chi- 
naman's chop-sticks  instead  of  the  knife  and  fork. 
He  pictures  to  himself  a  number  of  celibate  gentle- 
men, who  glide  through  a  sort  of  minuet  by  candle- 
light around  the  altar,  and  worship  the  creature  in- 
stead of  the  Creator,  and  keep  the  Bible  out  of  every 
body's  way,  and  make  people  easy  about  their  sins  : 
and  he  is  positive  that  no  one  above  a  "  poor  Irish- 
man "  can  fail  to  see  through  such  nonsense.  Few 
even  of  educated  Englishmen  have  any  suspicion  of 
the  depth  and  solidity  of  the  Catholic  dogma,  its 
wide  and  various  adaptation  to  wants  ineffaceable 
from  the  human  heart,  its  wonderful  fusion  of  the 
supernatural  into  the  natural  life,  its  vast  resources 
for  a  powerful  hold  upon  the  conscience.  We  doubt 
whether  any  single  Reformed  Church  can  present  a 
theory  of  religion  comparable  with  it  in  comprehen- 
siveness, in  logical  coherence,  in  the  well-guarded  dis- 
position of  its  parts.  Into  this  interior  view,  however, 
the  popular  polemics  neither  give  nor  have  the  slight- 
est insight ;  and  hence  it  is  a  common  error,  both  to 
underrate  the  natural  power  of  the  Romish  scheme 
and  to  mistake  the  quarter  in  which  it  is  most  likely 
to  be  felt.  It  is  not  among  the  ignorant  and  vulgar, 
but  among  the  intellectual  and  imaginative,  —  not 
by  appeals  to  the  senses  in  worship,  but  by  consist- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        379 

ency  and  subtlety  of  thought,  —  that  in  our  days 
converts  will  be  made  to  the  ancient  Church.  "We 
have  receded  far  from  the  Reformation  by  length  of 
time ;  the  management  of  the  controversy  has  degen- 
erated ;  it  has  been  debased  by  political  passions,  and 
turned  upon  the  grossest  external  features  of  the 
case:  and  when  a  thoughtful  man,  accustomed  to 
defer  to  historical  authority,  and  competent  to  esti- 
mate moral  theories  as  a  whole,  is  led  to  penetrate 
beneath  the  surface,  he  is  unprepared  for  the  sight  of 
so  much  speculative  grandeur,  and  if  he  have  been  a 
mere  Anglican  or  Lutheran,  is  perhaps  astonished 
into  the  conclusion,  that  the  elder  system  has  the 
advantage  in  philosophy  and  antiquity  alike.  From 
this,  among  other  causes,  we  incline  to  think  that  the 
Roman  Catholic  reaction  may  proceed  considerably 
further  in  this  country  ere  it  receives  any  effectual 
check.  The  academical  training  and  the  clerical 
teaching  of  the  upper  classes  have  not  qualified  them 
to  resist  it.  At  the  other  end  of  society  there  are 
large  masses  who  cannot  be  considered  inaccessible 
to  any  missionary  influence,  affectionately  and  per- 
severingly  applied.  Not  all  men,  in  a  crowded  com- 
munity, are  capable  of  the  independence,  the  self- 
subsistence,  without  which  Protestantism  sinks  into 
personal  anarchy.  The  class  of  weak,  dependent 
characters,  that  cannot  stand  alone  in  the  struggle  of 
life,  are  unprovided  for  in  the  modern  system  of  the 
world.  The  cooperative  theorist  tries  to  take  them 
up.  But  somehow  or  other  he  is  usually  a  man 
with  whom,  by  a  strange  fatality,  cooperation  is  im- 
possible ;  intent  on  uniting  all  men,  yet  himself  not 


380  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

agreeing  with  any  ;  with  individuality  so  intense  and 
exclusive,  that  it  produces  all  the  effect  of  intolerant 
self-will ;  and  thus  the  very  plans  which  by  his  hy- 
pothesis are  inevitable,  are  by  his  temper  made  im- 
practicable. He  appeals,  however,  and  successfully, 
to  the  uneasiness  felt  by  the  feeble  in  the  strife  and 
pressure  of  the  world ;  he  fills  the  imagination  with 
visions  of  repose  and  sympathy ;  he  awakens  the 
craving  for  unity  and  incorporation  in  some  vast  and 
sustaining  society.  And  whence  is  this  desire,  dis- 
appointed of  its  first  promise,  to  obtain  its  satisfac- 
tion ?  Is  it  impossible  that  it  may  accept  proposals 
from  the  most  ancient,  the  most  august,  the  most 
gigantic  organization  which  the  world  has  ever  seen? 
that  it  may  take  refuge  in  a  body  which  invests 
indigence  with  sanctity,  —  which  cares  for  its  mem- 
bers, one  by  one,  —  which  has  a  real  past  instead 
of  a  fancied  future,  and  warms  the  mind  with  the 
coloring  of  rich  traditions,  —  which,  in  providing 
for  the  poorest  want  of  the  moment,  enrolls  the  dis- 
ciple in  a  commonwealth  spread  through  all  ages 
and  both  worlds?  Whatever  socialistic  tendency 
may  be  diffused  through  the  English  mind  is  not  un- 
likely, in  spite  of  a  promise  diametrically  opposite, 
to  turn  to  the  advantage  of  the  Catholic  cause.  The 
middle  classes  of  this  country,  and  the  foremost 
ranks  of  the  artisans,  have  been  so  thoroughly  cast 
in  the  Protestant  mould,  and  so  jealously  vindicate 
their  sturdy  individuality,  that  no  reaction  from 
Rome  will  affect  them  with  any  feelings  but  of 
amazement  and  contempt.  Still,  in  the  peculiar 
combinations  of  the  present  period,  materials  enough 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        381 

exist  in  England  for  the  successful  operations  of  a 
well-equipped,  devoted,  and  skilful  priesthood ;  and 
if  the  prudence  of  Rome  has  failed  her  as  to  the 
manner  of  her  recent  advance,  her  true  instinct  has 
perhaps  detected  the  right  moment.  It  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  his  Holiness  has  thoroughly  puzzled  the 
English  people.  It  is  not  clear  to  them  how  they 
should  comport  themselves  towards  his  pretensions. 
They  have  objections  to  arrogance  at  all  times :  and 
when  an  Italian  priest  meddles  with  their  national 
geography,  disposes  of  their  counties,  draws  lines 
around  their  cities,  and,  fixing  an  admiring  eye  on 
the  unfurnished  cathedrals  of  Westminster  and  Bev- 
erley,  supplies  bishops  for  their  future  adornment, 
they  feel  inclined  at  least  to  let  him  know  that  they 
are  here,  and  that  England  is  not  an  unoccupied 
colony  to  be  parcelled  out  among  his  flock.  But 
they  read  Cardinal  Wiseman's  Appeal ;  and  become 
convinced  that,  if  any  thing  is  amiss,  it  is  their  own 
fault;  for  that,  apparently,  nothing  has  been  done 
beyond  the  fair  scope  of  law.  Then  it  is  useless  to 
be  angry,  unless  they  alter  the  law  :  yet  to  repent  of 
what  they  did,  with  a  purpose  of  justice,  and  in  a 
temper  of  generous  trust;  to  recall  their  deliberate 
concession  of  free  religious  development;  to  resume 
again  the  detestable  policy  of  theologic  legislation, — 
is  a  course  which  they  would  feel  ashamed  to  con- 
template. Moreover,  in  such  a  course,  it  is  equally 
difficult  to  know  how  to  begin,  and  where  to  stop. 
To  legislate  about  mere  names  and  titles,  apart  from 
the  functions  they  denote,  would  be  a  helpless  ex- 
pression of  childish  irritation ;  to  prohibit  the  offices 


382  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

themselves  would  be  to  drive  a  wounding  law 
into  the  interior  structure  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church.  Were  this  admissible,  what  principle  would 
remain  to  hinder  the  dissolution  by  law  of  the  Meth- 
odist Conference,  or  the  Free  Church  Synods  ?  Yet 
even  those  who  most  clearly  see  the  dangers  of  ac- 
tion at  the  present  crisis  arrive  regretfully,  we  think, 
at  a  conclusion  in  favor  of  entire  inaction.  An  un- 
easy suspicion  remains,  that  a  step  made  good  by  the 
Papal  hierarchy  introduces  an  unsound  element  into 
English  life ;  that  the  case  of  the  Roman  Catholics 
is  not  parallel  with  that  of  the  modern  Nonconform- 
ists ;  and  that,  however  we  may  ignore  the  red  hat 
and  the  archiepiscopal  title,  Dr.  Wiseman  continues, 
after  all,  something  more  to  the  state  than  a  "  Dis- 
senting minister."  These  impressions,  we  think,  are 
to  a  certain  extent  wholesome -and  legitimate;  and 
may  be  at  once  justified  and  moderated  by  a  glance 
at  the  theory  and  inherent  action  of  the  Roman 
Church,  especially  in  its  coexistence  with  the  state. 

All  Protestant  controversies  turn  upon  questions 
of  doctrine;  all  Protestant  sects  are  marked  off  by 
some  peculiarity  of  creed  ;  and  whoever,  in  the  con- 
scientious exercise  of  his  private  thought,  approves 
of  the  distinctive  peculiarity,  thereby  falls  into  mem- 
bership of  the  sect,  which  is  but  the  voluntary  con- 
currence of  many  individuals  in  the  same  confession. 
In  the  whole  circle  of  Christian,  or  quasi-Christian 
doctrines,  there  is  not  a  point  which  has  not  been 
looked  at  by  some  believer  or  other,  with  such  inten- 
sity as  to  grow  incandescent  before  his  mind,  —  to 
radiate  a  divine  light  upon  him,  and  to  be  assumed  as 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       383 

the  centre  of  a  system.  Like  the  astronomer,  intent 
on  some  suspected  mystery  in  a  star  of  inferior  mag- 
nitude, he  directs  his  soul  —  turned  by  some  special 
susceptibility  into  a  powerful  reflector  —  towards 
one  of  the  lesser  lights  in  the  great  arch  of  faith,  is 
dazzled  by  what  the  natural  vision  can  scarce  dis- 
cern, and  suffers  even  neighboring  objects  to  remain 
in  shade,  and  whole  constellations  of  truth  to  lie  be- 
yond his  field  of  view.  Each  sect  being  thus  the 
direct  result  of  some  individuality,  not  even  its  own 
members  pretend  that  its  specialty  is  to  be  held  up 
as  an  essential :  they  claim  for  it  no  other  merit  than 
that  of  recovering  some  important  position  from  un- 
merited neglect.  At  the  period  of  the  Reformation, 
indeed,  a  different  feeling  prevailed.  It  was  then 
thought  a  very  serious  thing  to  separate  from  a  pre- 
vious communion,  and  constitute  a  new  one;  and 
nothing  short  of  a  difference  in  "  fundamentals  "  was 
held  as  a  justifying  plea.  But  the  process  has  been 
so  often  repeated,  and  by  protracted  indulgence  to 
individuality  the  religious  sympathies  have  grown 
so  fastidious,  that  distinctions  even  more  trivial,  de- 
scending from  conscience  to  opinion,  and  from  opin- 
ion to  taste,  have  become  familiar  as  demarcations 
of  worship.  Hence,  to  the  Protestant  apprehension, 
denominations  without  end  may  coexist  within  the 
wide  embrace  of  Christianity ;  and  provided  the  de- 
viations do  not  run  beyond  certain  ill-determined 
bounds,  they  involve  no  forfeiture  of  the  Christian 
name.  "  "What  do  these  people  believe  ? "  is  the 
question  of  the  passer-by,  as  he  sees  the  crowd 
streaming  from  the  conventicle  of  some  new  sect 


384  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

or  sectiuncle.  Each  Nonconformist  name  suggests, 
to  those  who  know  its  history,  some  particular  tenet 
or  turn  of  thought,  of  which  it  has  undertaken 
the  guardianship ;  —  Methodism  expounds  the  new 
birth ;  Calvinism,  the  irrevocable  decrees ;  Quaker- 
ism, the  influence  of  the  Spirit;  Lutheranism,  the 
justification  by  faith.  Now  this  inveterate  habit  of 
attending  exclusively  to  doctrines,  Protestants  are 
apt  to  carry  into  their  estimates  of  the  Romish  sys- 
tem. They  put  it  down  among  the  sects  of  Chris- 
tendom, and  judge  it  as  they  would  Moravianism 
or  Presbyterianism.  They  accuse  its  worship  of 
idolatry,  and  its  creed  of  falsehood ;  they  are  offended 
by  the  apparent  contrast  with  the  simplicity  of  their 
own  Scriptural  or  rational  scheme;  and  yield  either 
to  all  the  antipathies  of  intolerant  zeal,  or  to  the 
mild  contempt  of  tolerant  indifference. 

Both  results  are  equally  unwarranted.  If  Cathol- 
icism be  a  superstition,  that  is  no  reason  for  inter- 
fering with  it  by  law.  If  it  is  not  more  a  super- 
stition than  Methodism,  that  is  no  proof  that  it  is 
as  little  dangerous.  Whether  its  solution  of  ques- 
tions of  divinity  be  wiser  or  more  foolish  than  that 
of  the  Protestant  Confessions,  is  a  matter  with  which 
the  state  has  no  concern.  It  may  go  astray  on  all 
the  topics  of  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  may  blas- 
pheme in  its  prayers  to  the  "  Mother  of  God,"  may 
be  idolatrous  in  the  mass  and  pagan  in  the  ritual, 
without  justifying  the  slightest  legislative  check. 
Were  it  heretical  as  Antichrist,  and  false  as  the  scar- 
let abomination,  its  career  should  run  free  of  the  At- 
torney-General. Englishmen  enjoy — as  insepara- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       385 

ble  from  freedom  of  conscience  —  unlimited  right  of 
error  and  delusion.  There  is  (or  recently  was)  an 
establishment  near  London  for  the  adoration  of  the 
Vital  Principle;  where  it  is  the  most  serious  of 
crimes  to  eat  beef,  a  deplorable  infirmity  to  cut  a 
cabbage,  and  the  height  of  holiness  to  live  on  apples 
ripely  dropping  into  the  expectant  aprons  of  devo- 
tees. The  disciples  of  Mr.  Holyoake  undertake  the 
propaganda  of  Atheism.  The  Book  of  Mormon 
succeeds  among  thousands  in  the  North  to  all  the 
honors  of  the  Bible,  And  a  nation  which  is  wise 
enough  to  leave  these  things  unmolested  by  coercive 
check  cannot  abandon  its  forbearance  in  dealing 
with  the  confessional  and  the  eucharistic  sacrifice. 
If  the  Latter-day  Saints  may  organize  their  staff  of 
"  Angels,"  and  send  them,  in  the  name  of  Joe  Smith, 
to  baptize  converted  potters  and  believing  house- 
maids in  the  waters  of  every  large  river ;  the  Catho- 
lics cannot,  on  any  charge  of  superstition,  be  denied 
their  order  of  bishops,  for  the  supervision  of  their 
priesthood,  and  the  governance  of  their  faithful.  Af- 
ter tolerating  so  much  new  nonsense,  we  have  lost 
all  plea  for  growing  angry  with  the  old. 

If,  then,  we  had  to  deal  simply  with  a  form  of 
worship  and  theology,  there  would  be  no  ground  for 
distinguishing  between  the  case  of  the  Catholics 
and  that  of  the  Dissenters.  And  practically,  per- 
haps, in  the  actual  condition  of  Europe,  the  ques- 
tion now  in  agitation  might  be  permitted  to  rest 
there.  But,  in  fairness  to  the  Protestant  feeling,  it 
should  never  be  forgotten  that  the  Roman  Catholic 
system  presents  a  feature  absent  from  every  other  va- 
33 


386  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

riety  of  Nonconformity.  It  is  not  a  RELIGION  only, 
but  a  POLITY  ;  —  and  this  in  a  very  peculiar  sense. 
Other  systems  also  —  as  the  Presbyterian  —  in- 
clude among  their  doctrines  an  opinion  in  favor  of 
some  particular  church-government;  —  which  opin- 
ion, however,  professing  to  be  derived  from  Scrip- 
ture by  use  of  private  judgment,  stands,  in  their  case, 
on  the  same  footing  with  every  other  article  of  their 
creed.  You  might  differ  from  John  Knox  about 
Synods,  without  prejudice  to  your  agreement  in  all 
else.  But  with  the  Romish  Church  it  is  different. 
It  is  not  that  her  religion  contains  a  Polity:  but 
that  her  Polity  contains  the  whole  religion.  The 
truths  she  publishes  exist  only  as  in  its  keeping,  and 
rest  only  on  its  guaranty:  and  if  you  invalidate  it, 
they  would  vanish,  like  the  promissory  notes  of  a 
corporation  whose  charter  was  proved  false.  Chris- 
tianity, in  her  view,  is  not  a  Doctrine,  productive  of 
institutions  through  spontaneous  action  on  individu- 
al minds;  but  an  Institution,  the  perpetual  source 
of  doctrine  for  individual  obedience  and  trust.  Rev- 
elation is  not  a  mere  communication  of  truth,  not  a 
transitory  visit  of  heaven  to  earth,  ascertained  by 
human  testimony,  and  fixed  in  historical  records: 
but  a  continuous  Incarnation  of  Deity,  a  permanent 
Real  Presence  of  the  Infinite  in  certain  selected  per- 
sons and  consecrated  objects.  The  same  Divine 
Epiphany  which  began  with  the  person  of  the  Sav- 
iour has  never  since  abandoned  the  world :  it  ex- 
ists, in  all  its  awfulness  and  power,  only  embodied 
no  longer  in  a  redeeming  individual  but  in  a  re- 
deeming Church.  The  -word  of  inspiration,  the 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        387 

deed  of  miracle,  the  authority  to  condemn  and  to 
forgive,  remain  as  when  Christ  taught  in  the  temple, 
walked  on  the  sea,  denounced  the  Pharisee,  and  ac- 
cepted the  penitent.  These  functions,  as  exercised 
by  him,  were  only  in  their  incipient  stage ;  he  came, 
—  to  exemplify  them  indeed,  but  chiefly  to  incorpo- 
rate them  in  a  Body  which  should  hold  and  trans- 
mit them  to  the  end  of  time.  From  his  person  they 
passed  to  the  College  of  the  Twelve,  under  the 
headship  of  Peter;  and  thence,  in  perpetual  Apostle- 
ship,  to  the  Bishops  and  Pastors,  ordained  through 
legitimate  hands,  for  the  governance  of  disciples. 
These  officers  are  the  sole  depositaries,  the  author- 
ized trustees,  of  Divine  grace ;  whose  decision,  wheth- 
er they  open  or  shut  the  gate  of  mercy,  is  registered 
in  heaven  and  is  without  appeal.  Not  that  they 
can  play  with  this  power,  and  dispose  of  it  by  arbi- 
trary will.  The  media  through  which  it  is  to  flow 
have  been  divinely  appointed  :  its  channels  are  lim- 
ited to  certain  physical  substances  and  bodily  acts  or 
postures,  selected  at  first  hand  for  the  purpose ;  —  wa- 
ter at  one  time,  bread  at  another,  oil  at  a  third,  hand- 
ling of  the  head  at  a  fourth.  But  the  infusion  of 
the  supernatural  efficacy  into  these  "  alvei "  depends 
on  an  act  of  the  appointed  official ;  through  whom 
alone  the  divine  matter — no  longer  choked  up  — 
can  have  free  currency  into  the  persons  of  believers. 
To  this  inheritance  of  Miracle  is  added  a  steward- 
ship of  Inspiration.  The  Episcopate  is  Keeper  of 
the  Christian  Records  :  and  as  those  records  are  on- 
ly the  first  germ  of  an  undeveloped  revelation,  with 
the  same  body  is  left  the  exclusive  power  of  unfold- 


388  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

ing  their  significance,  and  directing  the  growth  and 
expansion  of  their  ever-fertile  principles.  Whatever 
interpretation  the  hierarchy  rnay  put  upon  the  Scrip- 
tures, whatever  doctrine  or  discipline  they  may  an- 
nounce as  agreeable  with  the  rnind  of  God,  must  be 
accepted  as  infallible  and  authoritative.  The  same 
Spirit  of  absolute  Truth  which  spoke  in  the  living 
voice  of  Christ,  which  guided  the  pen  of  Evangelists, 
still  prolongs  itself  in  the  thought  and  counsels  of  bish- 
ops, and  renders  their  collective  decisions  binding  as 
divine  oracles.  The  people  who  form  the  obedient 
mass  of  the  Catholic  Body  are  not  without  a  share 
of  this  miraculous  light  in  the  soul;  not  indeed  for 
the  discernment  of  any  new  truth,  but  for  the  appre- 
hension of  the  old.  The  moment  the  disciple  is  in- 
corporated in  the  Church,  faith  bursts  into  sight :  he 
passes  from  opinion  into  knowledge :  he  perceives 
the  objects  of  his  worship,  and  the  truth  of  his  creed, 
with  more  than  the  certainty  of  sense :  and  as  he  bows 
before  the  altar,  or  commits  himself  to  the  "  Mother 
of  God,"  the  Real  Presence  and  the  invisible  world 
are  as  immediately  with  him  as  the  Breviary  and  the 
Crucifix.  Through  the  whole  Catholic  atmosphere 
is  diffused  a  preternatural  medium  of  clairvoyance, 
which  at  every  touch  of  its  ritual  vibrates  into  ac- 
tivity, and  opens  to  adoring  view  mysteries  hid  from 
minds  without.* 

Now,  with  the  spiritual  aspects  of  this  theory  we 


*  Adequate  authority  for  these  statements  will  be  found  in  Dr. 
Moehler's  Symbolism,  Part  I.  Chap.  V.,  and  in  Newman's  Lectures,  III. 
p.  66,  and  Lect.  IX.  passim. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       389 

are  not  here  concerned.  Reason  has  no  jurisdiction 
over  the  inspiration  that  transcends  it.  But  there  is 
an  humbler  task  to  which  the  common  intellect  is  not 
incompetent.  We  may  plant  this  system  in  a  polit- 
ical community,  set  it  down  beside  the  state,  imag- 
ine it  surrounded  by  families,  and  schools,  and  mu- 
nicipalities, and  parliaments,  by  the  prison  and  the 
court  of  justice ;  within  the  shadow  of  law  and  in 
presence  of  sovereignty :  and  we  may  ask,  how  it 
will  work  amid  these  august  symbols  of  a  nation's 
life,  how  adjust  itself  in  relation  to  them  ?  Will  it 
leave  them  to  their  free  development  ?  Can  it  tran- 
quilly coexist  with  them,  and  be  content  to  see  them 
occupy  the  scope  which  English  traditions  and  Eng- 
lish usage  have  secured  for  them  ?  We  are  con- 
vinced it  cannot ;  that  every  step  it  may  make  is  an 
encroachment  upon  wholesome  liberty  ;  that  it  is  in- 
nocent only  where  it  is  insignificant,  and  where  it  is 
ascendant  will  neither  part  with  power  nor  use  it 
well;  and  that  it  must  needs  raise  to  the  highest 
pitch  the  common  vice  of  tyrannies  and  of  democra- 
cies,—  the  relentless  crushing  of  minorities. 

For  what  is  this  scheme  but  an  organized  and 
undying  attempt  to  establish  a  theocracy?  The 
Church  is  not  only  a  Heaven-appointed  polity,  but 
an  imperishable  incarnation  of  the  Personal  Deity ; 
the  Episcopate  is  the  head-office  of  his  supernatural 
administration ;  the  sacraments,  his  occasions  of  au- 
dience and  union  with  his  subjects;  the  priests,  the 
ministers  of  his  court,  the  directors  of  its  ceremo- 
nial, the  channel  of  every  petition  and  every  reply. 
On  what  terms  can  the  mere  secular  state  live  with 
33* 


390  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

such  a  companion  ?  Those  who  wield  the  sceptre 
of  the  Most  High  will  pay  small  heed  to  the  baton 
of  the  constable.  Where  the  Almighty  reigns,  what 
room  will  there  be  for  the  police  magistrate  ?  —  and 
where  Omniscience  directs,  for  debates  in  parlia- 
ment ?  What  natural  function  can  fail  to  undergo 
eclipse,  where  the  mystic  shadow  of  the  supernatu- 
ral traverses  the  air?  True,  the  Catholic  declares 
his  belief  in  a  sort  of  divine  right  vested  in  the  civil 
government,  and  adopts  the  language  of  St.  Paul, 
that  "the  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God"; 
and,  on  the  strength  of  this,  often  professes  a  loyalty 
even  more  profuse  than  accords  with  the  taste  of 
a  people  who  at  times  have  had  to  uphold  law 
against  kingship.  So,  in  truth,  this  doctrine  of  the 
state  is  not  so  lofty  as  it  looks ;  for  while  Govern- 
ment and  the  Church  are  both  called  divine,  the  one 
is  referred  to  the  God  of  nature,  the  other  to  the 
God  of  grace;  the  one  is  the  old  mechanism  of 
heathen  corruption,  the  other  the  new  economy  of 
heavenly  redemption ;  the  one  is  for  the  coercion  of 
enemies  to  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  the  other  for  the 
guidance  of  friends ;  and  who  are  enemies,  who 
friends,  the  Church  alone  can  tell.  The  result  is  in- 
evitable. The  civil  power,  however  extolled  as  simi- 
lar in  origin  and  anterior  in  date,  is  treated,  after  all, 
as  subordinate  in  authority,  and  bound  to  place  it- 
self and  its  sword  at  the  disposal  of  the  ecclesiastical 
order.  Its  highest  honor  and  perfection  is  to  play 
the  part  of  censor  and  avenger,  jailer  and  execution- 
er, for  the  offended  sacerdotal  sanctities.  Its  prov- 
ince is  to  do  the  rough  work,  to  undertake  the  odi- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       391 

ous  necessities,  which  saintly  hearts  are  too  tender 
to  behold,  and  saintly  hands  too  clean  to  touch. 
Spiritual  men  cannot  work  at  the  forge  and  rivet 
chains,  but  only  point  to  the  limbs  that  are  to  bear 
them ;  they  cannot  teach  sword  exercise,  but  only 
name  the  crusade  where  it  might  serve  a  holy  end; 
they  are  unacquainted  with  worldly  finance,  but  can 
mention  to  the  magistrate  what  sum  would  be  use- 
ful, and  meditate  within  themselves  the  purposes  to 
which  it  shall  be  applied.  Where  the  theocratic  pre- 
tension prevails,  it  is  idle  to  suppose  that  another 
supreme  jurisdiction,  resting  on  a  mere  human  basis, 
can  peacably  coexist  with  it.  Professedly  destitute 
of  divine  direction,  undefended  from  passion  and  er- 
ror, how  can  the  inferior  function  sustain  itself  against 
the  boundless  grasp  and  grandeur  of  the  superior? 
Well  is  it  called,  in  the  language  of  ecclesiastics,  the 
secular  "  arm"  As  surely  as  the  body  obeys  the 
mind,  and  the  nimble  hand  or  heavy  fist  follows 
the  keenness  of  thought  or  the  shock  of  rage,  must 
the  temporal  power,  in  every  sacerdotal  state,  sink 
into  the  mere  instrument  of  spiritual  subtlety  and 
anointed  indignation.  In  proportion  as  it  assumes  a 
truly  independent  action,  and  insists  on  the  suprem- 
acy of  law,  the  Church  considers  itself  injured,  com- 
plains of  the  arrogance  of  the  princes  of  this  world, 
and  puts  on  that  air  of  hurt  innocence  which  is  the 
favorite  disguise  of  the  intensest  pride.  Hear,  for 
instance,  the  affecting  statement  by  Father  Newman, 
of  the  hard  lot  of  the  true  Church,  from  the  disturb- 
ing vicinity  of  the  State. 

"  The  Church  is  a  sovereign  and  self-sustaining  power,  in 


392  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

the  same  sense  in  which  any  temporal  state  is  such.  She 
is  sufficient  for  herself ;  she  is  absolutely  independent  in  her 
own  sphere  ;  she  has  irresponsible  control  over  her  subjects 
in  religious  matters  ;  she  makes  laws  for  them  of  her  own 
authority,  and  enforces  obedience  on  them  as  the  tenure  of 
their  membership  in  her  communion.  And  you  know,  in 
the  next  place,  that  the  very  people  who  are  her  subjects, 
are  in  another  relation  the  State's  subjects,  and  that  those 
very  matters  which,  in  one  aspect,  are  spiritual,  in  another 
are  secular.  The  very  same  persons  and  the  very  same 
things  belong  to  two  supreme  jurisdictions  at  once,  so  that 
the  Church  cannot  issue  any  order  but  it  affects  the  persons 
and  the  things  of  the  State,  nor  can  the  State  issue  any  or- 
der without  its  affecting  the  persons  and  the  things  of  the 
Church.  Moreover,  though  there  is  a  general  coincidence 
between  the  principles  on  which  civil  and  ecclesiastical  wel- 
fare respectively  depend,  as  proceeding  from  one  and  the 
same  God,  who  has  given  power  to  the  magistrate  as  well 
as  to  the  priest,  yet  there  is  no  necessary  coincidence  in 
their  particular  application  and  resulting  details,  just  as  the 
good  of  the  soul  is  not  always  the  good  of  the  body  ;  and 
much  more  is  this  the  case,  considering  there  is  no  divine 
direction  promised  to  the  State,  to  preserve  it  from  human 
passion  and  human  selfishness.  Under  these  circumstances, 
it  is  morally  impossible  that  there  should  not  be  continual 
collision,  or  chance  of  collision,  between  the  State  and  the 
Church ;  and  considering  the  State  has  the  power  of  the 
sword,  and  the  Church  has  no  arms  but  such  as  are  spiritual, 
the  problem  to  be  considered  by  us  is,  how  the  Church  may 
be  able  to  do  her  divinely  appointed  work  without  molesta- 
tion or  seduction  from  the  State If  the  State 

would  but  keep  within  its  own  province,  it  would  find  the 
Church  its  truest  ally  and  best  benefactor.  She  upholds 
obedience  to  the  magistrate  ;  she  recognizes  his  office  as 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        393 

from  God  ;  she  is  the  preacher  of  peace,  the  sanction  of 
law,  the  first  element  of  order,  and  the  safeguard  of  moral- 
ity, and  that  without  possible  vacillation  or  failure  ;  she 
may  be  fully  trusted ;  she  is  a  sure  friend,  for  she  is  inde- 
fectible and  undying.  But  it  is  not  enough  for  the  State 
that  things  should  be  done,  unless  it  has  the  doing  of  them  ; 
it  abhors  a  double  jurisdiction,  and  what  it  calls  a  divided 
allegiance  ;  aut  Caesar  out  nullus,  is  its  motto,  nor  does  it 
willingly  accept  of  any  compromise.  All  power  is  found- 
ed, as  it  is  often  said,  on  public  opinion  ;  to  allow  the  exist- 
ence of  a  collateral  and  rival  authority,  is  to  weaken  its 
own ;  and  though  that  authority  never  showed  its  presence 
by  collision,  but  ever  concurred  and  cooperated  in  the  acts 
of  the  State,  yet  the  divinity  with  which  the  State  would  fain 
hedge  itself  would,  in  the  minds  of  men,  be  concentrated 
on  that  ordinance  of  God  which  has  the  higher  claim  to  it." 
—  pp.  144  -  146. 

Simple  people  imagine  that  theocratic  claims  are 
harmless,  because  they  refer  only  to  spiritual  matters. 
Cardinal  Wiseman  assures  the  Dean  and  Chapter 
of  Westminster,  that  he  does  not  covet  their  Abbey, 
or  begrudge  their  revenues,  or  dream  of  meddling 
with  their  congregation.  He  only  wants  to  be  a  city 
missionary,  and  carry  light  and  consolation  into  noi- 
some courts  and  alleys,  where  the  Protestant  influ- 
ence cannot  penetrate.  He  and  his  episcopal  breth- 
ren have  no  other  function  than  to  see  that  the  "  poor 
Irish  "  say  their  prayers,  —  that  the  priests  are  dili- 
gent in  their  calling,  —  that  the  altars  have  clean 
cloths,  and  the  broken  crucifixes  get  repaired.  They 
administer  in  a  kingdom  that  is  not  of  this  world : 
and  never  can  quit  their  quiet  sphere  to  enter  into 


MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  affairs  of  civil  life.  Human  interests  and  institu- 
tions are  no  more  in  danger  from  them  than  from 
the  angels  in  heaven.  We  believe  this  to  be  said  in 
perfect  good  faith,  from  the  Catholic  point  of  view ; 
and  for  the  hour  to  be  true  even  from  the  Protestant. 
But  before  we  concede,  upon  this  plea,  the  demand 
of  every  church  to  perfect  autonomy,  —  before  we 
turn  away  with  the  careless  assurance  that  these 
clerical  matters  are  no  affairs  of  ours,  —  it  might  be 
well  to  know  how  and  where  the  line  is  to  be  drawn 
between  temporal  and  spiritual  things.  Even  in  the 
Reformed  churches,  this  boundary  has  been  a  topic 
of  serious  dispute.  They  have  all  declared  that 
the  kingdom  they  aspired  to  find  was  not  of  this 
world.  Yet  Calvin  made  laws  in  Geneva,  about  the 
dress  of  brides  and  the  ringing  of  bells ;  employed 
the  police  to  drive  the  inhabitants  to  church ;  shut 
up  the  theatres,  carried  off  the  fashionable  from  the 
masquerade  to  bridewell,  issued  warrants  against 
dancing,  and  rendered  it  felony  to  question  the  dog- 
mas or  criticize  the  preaching  of  his  party.  John 
Knox  contended,  that  "  to  the  Civil  Magistrate  spe- 
cially appertained  the  ordering  and  reformation  of 
Religion,"  and  the  Reformers  of  Edinburgh,  in  loGO, 
made  the  repeated  celebration  of  the  mass  punish- 
able with  death.  The  zeal  of  the  Free  Church  of 
Scotland  for  the  "  crown  rights  of  the  Redeemer," 
(that  is,  for  the  irresponsibility  of  the  clergy,)  has 
rendered  impossible  its  friendly  alliance  with  the 
State.  But  the  very  nature  of  the  Protestant  system 
presents  a  limit  to  these  inconveniences :  —  First, 
its  doctrine  is  not  sacerdotal ;  it  pretends  to  no  se- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       395 

cret  magic  all  its  own:  its  appeal  is  popular;  it 
rouses  the  conscience  of  men  in  masses,  instead  of 
practising  on  their  weakness  one  by  one.  Secondly, 
it  looks  on  the  world  as  so  lost  to  God,  that  no  evan- 
gelical men  can  mix  themselves  much  with  its  affairs. 
From  their  spiritual  position,  they  see  it  across  a 
vast  chasm,  dividing  the  opposite  poles  of  destiny : 
they  communicate  with  it  as  with  an  alien,  if  not  a 
hostile  land;  where  no  province  lies  which  it  is 
given  them  to  rule.  A  realm,  therefore,  always  re- 
mains as  the  proper  theatre  of  temporal  sway.  They 
may  mark  its  boundary  wrong,  but  they  mark  it 
somewhere.  But  on  the  Catholic  map  of  this  uni- 
verse, no  such  line  is  found  at  all ;  or  if  it  seems  to 
be  there,  it  is  but  as  the  shadow  of  a  window-frame, 
throwing  its  bar  across  the  sheet,  and  shifting  as  the 
sun  of  ecclesiastic  glory  rises  or  declines.  What  is 
temporal  in  England  is  spiritual  in  Spain;  what  be- 
longs to  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  in  the  nineteenth 
century,  belonged  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven  in  the 
sixteenth.  De  jure,  the  divine  commission  extends 
to  every  thing,  and  might  absorb  this  planet  into  the 
Papal  state ;  de  facto,  it  includes  what  it  can,  and 
stops  where  it  must.  In  Paris,  the  Archbishop  cel- 
ebrates high-mass  to  orders  from  an  Algerine  Gen- 
eral, or  the  Prefect  of  Police,  and  bestows  his  pliant 
benediction  on  King  or  Revolutionary  hero.  In  Tu- 
rin a  law  is  passed  to  render  ecclesiastics  amenable 
to  the  civil  courts :  the  high  dignitaries  of  the  Church 
refuse  obedience :  to  the  minister  of  state  who  pro- 
posed the  law,  they  deny,  on  his  last  bed,  the  rites  of 
his  religion,  and  he  dies  unshriven :  Rome  supports 


396  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

them  in  their  resistance,  and  they  are  now  in  exile 
or  in  prison  for  preferring  their  vows  to  their  alle- 
giance. To  recede  with  passive  resistance  in  every 
step,  to  advance  with  active  pressure  in  every  open 
direction,  is  the  policy  of  a  priesthood  that  never  dies. 
The  city  and  territory  of  Rome  itself  exhibit  per- 
fectly the  result  to  which  the  Catholic  distinction  be- 
tween  the  civil  and  the  spiritual  departments  will  re- 
duce itself,  when  let  alone.  There,  the  Pope  is  Mon- 
arch, as  well  as  Primate,  and  can  divide  the  offices 
as  he  will:  and  there,  the  temporal  functionaries 
consist  of  the  soldiery  and  the  police.  This  narrow 
restriction  of  the  business  of  the  government,  which 
is  there  brought  about  by  the  ascendency  of  the 
priesthood,  rnay  be  elsewhere  partially  produced  by 
the  freedom  of  the  people.  The  larger  the  range  of 
life  that  is  left  to  individual  self-direction,  the  less 
does  there  remain  for  public  law  to  take  up,  and  the 
more  limited  will  be  the  work  of  public  rule.  During 
the  last  thirty  years,  there  has  been,  till  lately,  a  con- 
stant retreat  of  legislation  from  its  interference  with 
the  private  will;  from  the  press,  from  commerce, 
from  litigation,  from  religion,  restrictions  have  been 
removed;  and  the  notion  has  become  current,  that 
the  State  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  protect  "  body  and 
goods."  So  long  as  such  an  idea  retains  its  influ- 
ence, and  government  attempts  no  more  than  to  stop 
theft  and  keep  the  peace,  it  can  scarce  come  into  col- 
lision with  any  priesthood,  and  no  apprehension  of 
any  interference  will  exist :  the  two  rivals  are  for  the 
time  on  different  walks,  and  will  not  meet.  The 
vicar  apostolic  does  not  aspire  to  be  constable,  or 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       397 

the  lord-lieutenant  to  perform  extreme  unction.  But 
the  time  comes  of  inevitable  reaction  against  our  ex- 
aggerated trust  in  individual  self-guidance:  fever  and 
pauperism  in  cities,  sullen  indigence  in  the  country, 
excessive  work  in  factories,  and  juvenile  ignorance 
everywhere,  compel  us,  as  a  community,  to  enlarge 
our  aims  and  embrace  some  moral  ends.  Reforma- 
tory discipline  is  attempted  in  the  prison ;  industrial 
training  in  the  Poor  Law  Unions ;  public  grants  are 
made  for  education ;  and  in  Ireland,  first,  common 
schools,  next,  lay  colleges,  are  created  under  sanction 
of  Parliament.  No  sooner  does  this  nobler  states- 
manship begin  to  take  effect,  than  the  politician  is 
told  that  he  is  trespassing  on  the  churchman's  ground. 
Who  but  the  priest  can  undertake  the  "  cure  of 
souls "  ?  Who  but  he  distinguish  their  medicine 
from  their  poison  ?  Who  else  has  a  right  to  care 
about  God's  poor  ?  Are  the  Catholic  youth  to  read 
history  without  a  spiritual  guide  at  their  elbow,  to 
tell  them  whom  to  canonize  and  whom  to  hate  ?  — 
and  to  learn  geology  without  the  art  of  squeezing 
the  epochs  within  orthodox  dimensions? — and  to 
study  astronomy  without  warning  from  the  contu- 
macy of  Galileo  ?  No  ;  vested  interests  of  the  ho- 
liest kind  preoccupy  the  territory  of  knowledge;  no 
plough  shall  touch,  no  harvest  insult,  its  special  right 
of  eternal  barrenness ;  it  is  the  Ttfitvos  of  a  God  ;  only 
sacred  cattle  shall  graze  there ;  and  every  intruder  be 
taken  to  the  sacrifice.  And  so,  amid  a  pageantry 
and  with  a  secrecy  fitted  to  mystify  a  deed  of  dark- 
ness, the  Irish  Episcopate  hold  a  Synod  at  Thurles ; 
resolve  to  quench  the  best  light  of  promise  that  for 
34 


398  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

many  a  generation  has  been  lifted  above  the  storm 
of  faction;  and  surmising,  with  sure  instinct,  that 
what  brings  the  nation  to  port  must  bring  the  priest- 
hood to  wreck,  they  repent  of  the  prospect  of  repose, 
and  steer  the  vessel  right  back  into  the  tempest. 
The  colleges  where  Protestant  and  Catholic  may 
meet  in  the  class-room,  find  that  they  are  made  of 
the  same  stuff,  and  feel  the  blending  flames  of  the 
same  generous  enthusiasm ;  where  science  cannot 
be  bewildered,  or  history  suborned ;  where  Rome 
under  the  Republic  may  be  compared  to  Rome  un- 
der the  Primacy,  and  natural  politics  appear  beside 
the  supernatural ;  where  tastes  may  grow  up  too  he- 
roic for  the  sacerdotal  type  of  saintship,  —  are  de- 
nounced as  "godless";  their  condemnation  is  pro- 
cured from  the  chair  of  St.  Peter;  and  the  project  is 
set  on  foot  of  an  exclusive  university,  where  no  her- 
etic step  shall  ever  tread,  and  the  mediaeval  measures 
of  nature  and  standards  of  truth  shall  be  supreme. 
We  trust  that  the  government  will  patiently  uphold 
these  colleges ;  and  will  so  give  to  the  Catholic  laity 
the  opportunity  of  proving,  that  the  ecclesiastical  de- 
mand upon  their  obedience  may  be  over-strained; 
that  they  will  not  lay  down  at  the  feet  of  a  confessor 
their  duties  as  parents  and  as  citizens;  and  that  they 
will  put  to  a  practical  test  Lord  Beaumont's  regret- 
ful assertion,  "  The  Church  of  Rome  admits  of  no 
moderate  party  among  the  laity;  moderation  in  re- 
spect to  her  ordinances  is  lukewarmness,  and  the 
lukewarm  she  invariably  spews  out  of  her  mouth." 
The  crusade  commenced  against  the  colleges  is 
now  spreading,  it  is  said,  to  the  national  schools. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        399 

"When  they  were  first  established,  it  was  at  the  ex- 
pense of  a  monopoly  previously  enjoyed  by  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Protestant  Establishment ;  and  encoun- 
tering the  bitter  hostility  of  the  clergy,  they  were  ac- 
cepted as  a  boon  by  the  priests.  But  now  the  times 
are  changed :  through  the  perseverance  of  govern- 
ment and  the  patient  energy  of  Archbishop  Whate- 
ly,  the  prejudices  of  his  Church  have  given  way  ;  and 
in  the  local  administration  and  working  of  the  sys- 
tem, religious  parties  are  becoming  equalized.  At 
this  symptom,  the  priesthood  begin  to  show  signs  of 
restiveness  ;  to  the  Catholic  imagination,  mere  equal- 
ity of  privilege  has  grown  flat  and  lost  its  charm  : 
and  schools  for  many  hundred  children  are  deserted 
and  closed,  because  the  parish  priest  is  not  made 
visitor.  And  so,  in  proportion  as  legislation  rises 
above  matters  of  police,  and  interposes  to  check  the 
ills  of  neglected  private  obligation,  in  proportion  as 
it  lets  the  stiffness  of  a  pedantic  economy  give  way  a 
little  to  the  natural  humanity,  and  attempts  benefi- 
cent prevention,  instead  of  posthumous  infliction, — 
just  therefore  when  it  begins  to  interest  the  moral 
feeling  of  the  nation,  and  attest  the  growth  of  high- 
er sentiments,  —  does  the  altar  appear  to  bar  the 
way,  and  the  priest  declares  that  all  within  the  rail 
is  his.  At  the  moment  and  in  the  act  of  aspiring  to 
a  nobler  life,  the  State  is  blocked  out  and  spurned 
as  most  profane.  So  has  it  always  been  with  that 
proud  Church  :  and  so  must  it  ever  be.  Yet,  strange 
'to  say,  all  this  may  be  without  fault,  without  pride, 
in  individuals.  It  involves  no  reproach  to  private 
believers  or  to  official  guides.  They  are  entangled 


400  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

in  a  net  whose  threads  have  shot  out  fibres  into  their 
wills,  and  penetrated  the  very  substance  of  their 
souls.  What,  indeed,  is  a  man  struggling  in  a  The- 
ocracy, but  as  an  insect  in  the  waters  of  a  cataract  ? 
He  has  become  part  of  a  mightier  element,  and  must 
drift  whither  it  will  sweep.  The  arrogance  of  Rome 
is  something  impersonal :  it  is  a  function  of  her 
organism,  a  law  of  her  ecclesiastic  life.  It  utters 
itself  alike  from  the  lips  of  the  meekest  and  the  most 
insolent  of  her  prelates ;  and  whether  acting  through 
the  energy  of  Hildebrand,  the  frivolity  of  Leo  the 
Tenth,  or  the  saintly  virtues  of  Pius  the  Fifth,  never 
permits  you  to  forget  the  "  Vicar  of  Christ."  It  is  in 
the  very  atmosphere  of  her  traditions.  Like  the  wind 
which,  in  crossing  the  ocean,  distils  its  surface,  tak- 
ing up  the  pure  water  and  leaving  the  brine ;  these 
traditions,  sweeping  over  the  ages,  absorb  every  glory 
and  omit  all  the  shame  :  and  the  temper  which  they 
nourish  is  the  accumulated  product  of  a  history 
which  forgets  no  victory  and  dwells  on  no  defeat. 
But  the  social  operation  of  this  spirit  is  not  allevi- 
ated by  its  absence,  as  a  personal  disposition,  from 
the  individual  heart.  It  cannot  be  untrue  to  its  ten- 
dency. A  system  pledged  to  solitary  and  universal 
empire ;  engaged  to  see  nothing,  hear  nothing,  upon 
God's  earth,  except  itself,  and  the  subjects  given  for  its 
sway ;  bound  to  blot  out  all  countries  from  the  map, 
and  all  ages  from  Christian  history,  which  do  not 
bear  witness  to  its  unity  and  majesty,  —  can  make 
terms  with  no  rival,  and  endure  no  equal.  Others 
are  free,  when  only  not  oppressed ;  but  this  feels 
itself  a  slave,  till  it  is  lord  of  all. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        401 

"What,  then,  is  the  political  inference  to  be  drawn 
from  this  theocratic  character  in  the  Roman  Church  ? 
Have  we  been  supplying  premises  for  a  no-popery 
conclusion  ?  Not  so  ;  —  unless  the  canons  of  Exeter- 
Hall  logic  are  henceforth  to  be  the  rules  of  English 
statesmanship ;  and  a  fickle  cowardice  to  take  place 
of  that  noble  courage  with  which,  in  many  a  danger, 
the  English  people  have  dared  to  be  just.  Ambition 
in  a  sect,  and  exclusiveness  in  a  creed,  are  good  rea- 
sons for  not  arming  them  with  special  power,  and 
trusting  them  with  political  privilege:  but  no  reason 
at  all  for  withholding  from  them  civil  equality,  or  im- 
posing coercive  limits  on  the  spontaneous  develop- 
ment of  their  religious  institutions.  No  one  thinks 
of  insisting  on  humility  of  mind  as  a  condition  of 
the  franchise,  or  denying  the  alderman's  gown  except 
to  the  shoulders  of  modest  innocence :  and  as  little 
can  we  make  the  temper  of  a  Church  a  qualifying 
ground  of  its  civil  freedom.  The  religious  liberties 
which  have  been  won,  through  the  cost  and  struggle 
of  two  centuries,  would  not  be  worth  a  twelve- 
month's purchase,  were  they  held  on  no  tenure  of 
immutable  justice,  but  only  during  theological  good 
behavior.  Shall  it  be  said  that,  in  passing  the  great 
Emancipation  Act,  the  British  legislature  mistook 
the  nature  of  the  Romish  system,  and  fancied  it  a 
meek  affair,  like  Quakerism  ?  Is  the  Catholic  relig- 
ion so  ne\v  a  thing  that  its  character,  obscure  in  ! 
wakes  us  into  wild  surprise  in  1S50  ?  If  there  is  any 
thing  in  history  known  by  the  attestation  of  unbro- 
ken experience,  if  any  thing  deep-cut  into  the  memo- 
rials of  British  life  by  the  graver  of  the  nation's 
34* 


402  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

resolve  and  agony,  surely  it  is  the  lofty  pretensions 
and  the  sleepless  patience  of  the  Church  "  one  and 
indivisible."  Had  this  been  a  secret  twenty  years 
ago,  the  removal  of  Catholic  disabilities  would  lose 
not  only  every  noble,  but  every  respectable  feature ; 
and  would  be  degraded  from  an  act  of  legislative 
rectitude  to  the  level  of  a  defeated  bargain,  or  an  ex- 
torted boon.  But  it  was  no  secret:  the  repeated 
Parliamentary  debates,  the  protracted  controversies 
between  the  established  and  the  disabled  commun- 
ions, had  long  brought  out  every  feature  of  the  case ; 
and  nothing  was  done  but  with  open  eyes.  It  was 
fully  intended  to  take  all  the  risks  of  a  just  course, 
and  to  leave  to  the  Roman  Catholics  the  undisturbed 
advantage  of  any  arrogance  or  weakness,  any  policy 
or  success,  any  mitre,  pallium,  or  title,  for  which 
room  might  be  found  within  the  limits  of  the  law. 
We  have  seen  nothing  to  convince  us  that  the  ap- 
pointment of  the  new  Catholic  hierarchy  involves  the 
violation,  or  even  the  slightest  straining,  of  the  law : 
and  it  may  now  be  fairly  presumed  that  Mr.  Bow- 
yer's  pamphlet,  in  which  the  legal  aspects  of  the  case 
are  strikingly  presented,  —  is  felt  to  be  unanswer- 
able.* The  Papal  brief,  then,  is  valid  for  its  end  ;  the 
bishops  it  appoints  are  already  there,  lawfully  accost- 


*  Sir  E.  Sugdcn's  opinion  has  since  been  given,  against  the  legality 
of  the  Papal  procedure,  so  far  as  the  publication  of  the  Letter  Apostolic 
is  concerned.  The  offence,  however,  is  against  a  law  which  has  been 
stripped  of  its  penalties  :  and  is  apparently  constituted,  not  by  the  sub- 
stantive act  of  creating  and  allocating  the  new  hierarchy,  but  by  the 
formal  error  of  publishing  the  instrument  through  which  this  is  done. 
If  so,  prosecution  may  touch  some  person,  but  cannot  affect  the  Iking. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        403 

ed  by  their  titles,  and  exercising  supervision  over  the 
clergy  of  their  dioceses  ;  —  no  prosecution  can  disturb 
them  ;  —  if  they  are  to  be  deprived,  it  must  be  by  act 
of  Parliament ;  but  what  could  be  the  provisions  of 
such  an  act  ?  Is  it  to  prevent  the  Roman  Catholics 
from  having  bishops?  —  to  say  that  their  Church 
must  cease  to  be  episcopal  ?  This  would  be  tanta- 
mount to  an  absolute  proscription  of  their  religion ; 
which,  as  we  have  shown,  is  essentially  a  polity,  and, 
apart  from  the  prelatical  element,  can  have  no  exist- 
ence. It  is  a  mockery  of  toleration  to  permit  people 
to  believe  in  a  divine  corporation,  and  then  refuse 
them  the  corporate  officers.  Or  is  it  to  allow  the 
bishops,  but  to  make  restrictive  rules  as  to  what 
they  shall  be  called?  This  being  the  most  simply 
vexatious  course,  enough  to  show  a  petty  temper, 
not  enough  to  touch  the  distribution  of  real  power, 
is  most  likely,  we  fear,  to  be  thought  soothing  to  the 
English  clergy,  and  to  be  offered  to  them  as  adapted 
to  their  taste.  It  were  better,  we  think,  to  leave  them 
unsoothed  than  to  bring  British  legislation  into  con- 
tempt. Or,  finally,  is  it  to  allow  both  bishops  and 
their  names,  but  to  control  their  nomination  from 
Rome,  and  in  some  way  insist  that  their  origin  be 
indigenous,  and  their  dependence  insular  ?  On  po- 
litical grounds,  this  is  the  only  measure  for  which  a 
plausible  excuse  can  be  urged.  It  might  be  plausi- 
bly said  to  the  Roman  Catholics,  "  You  shall  have 
every  liberty  enjoyed  by  any  subject  of  these  realms: 
no  one  advantage  shall  Methodist  or  Baptist  possess 
over  you :  whatever  the  largest  exigencies  of  religious 
freedom  have  been  defined  by  your  countrymen  to 


404  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

include,  shall  be  secured  to  you.  If  you  are  content 
to  stand  on  an  equality  with  them,  no  prejudice  shall 
disturb  your  position  ;  but  your  demands  go  beyond 
theirs ;  no  sect  before  ever  asked  to  have  a  body  of 
ruling  officers  distributed  over  the  country,  owing 
their  appointment  and  their  spiritual  allegiance  to  a 
foreign  power.  If  the  Pope  should  fall  under  the 
ascendency  of  cabinets  unfriendly  to  England,  what 
security  have  we  that  unpatriotic  influences  may  not 
be  poured  through  the  channels  of  power,  thus  rami- 
fying to  our  poorest  population?  Insulate  yourselves, 
like  other  Nonconformists,  and  your  faith  shall  be 
absolutely  free.  But  at  present  you  require,  under 
the  name  of  religion,  a  privilege  which  every  one 
else  would  esteem  political" 

This  argument,  however,  is  not  applicable  as 
against  the  admission  of  the  new  hierarchy.  For,  if 
you  sweep  that  hierarchy  away,  you  only  reinstate 
the  Vicars  Apostolic,  whose  Papal  dependence  is 
even  more  close,  and  more  open  to  the  objection 
urged,  than  that  of  the  provincial  episcopate.  Must 
we  go  further,  then,  and  cut  off  the  organic  connec- 
tion with  Rome  in  every  form  ?  Desirable  or  not,  the 
thing  is  simply  impossible.  Without  the  living  con- 
nection with  their  Head,  the  members  of  the  Catholic 
Church  cannot  subsist  as  parts  of  a  spiritual  body  : 
and  to  require  them  —  either  by  electing  their  bish- 
ops or  by  vesting  their  allocation  in  an  English 
High-priest — to  form  themselves  into  a  detached 
Church,  is  only  to  insist  on  their  becoming  apos- 
tates. No  doubt,  they  ask  more  than  satisfies  the 
Dissenter :  but  it  is  not  optional  with  them  to  do  this 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       405 

or  to  take  the  humbler  place.  They  cannot  shut  up 
within  the  four  seas  a  Church,  whose  universali- 
ty, whose  identity  with  entire  Christendom,  whose 
bounden  allegiance  to  the  chair  of  St.  Peter,  is  the 
prime  article  of  their  belief.  They  must  either  en- 
joy, then,  this  larger  liberty  than  others,  or  they 
must  have  none  at  all.  While  their  altars  remain 
open,  and  hundreds  of  priests  daily  appear  at  ma- 
tins and  vespers,  no  choice  remains  but  between 
open  and  clandestine  communication  with  Rome ; 
and  if  there  be  contingent  political  danger  in  a  for- 
eign connection,  that  danger  is  not  likely  to  be  les- 
sened when  the  correspondence  is  maintained,  in  the 
style  of  a  conspiracy,  between  an  offended  Pontiff 
and  a  disaffected  English  and  Irish  people. 

With  our  eye,  then,  full  upon  the  inevitable  ten- 
dencies of  the  Romish  system ;  with  the  conviction 
that  it  generates  a  state  of  mind  at  variance  with 
the  English  standard  of  civil  and  religious  liberty ; 
with  the  certain  knowledge,  that  the  equal  and  tol- 
erant treatment  it  receives  it  will  never,  in  its  place 
and  day  of  power,  be  willing  to  reciprocate,  —  we 
yet  say  to  our  fellow-countrymen,  Be  just,  and  fear 
not ;  put  not  your  trust  in  coercive  laws ;  dream  not 
that  divine  truth  can  be  bought  with  the  coin  of  hu- 
man injury;  be  resolved,  if  ever  you  have  to  defend 
your  own  rights  from  encroachment,  to  enter  the  field 
without  reproach.  The  free  mind  and  the  large 
heart,  in  yourselves  and  your  children,  will  be  a 
surer  charm  against  the  priest  and  the  canon  law, 
than  preventive  statutes  or  an  outcry  for  the  Queen's 
supremacy. 


406  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

And  this  last  phrase,  this  "  Queen's  supremacy," 
brings  us  to  the  real  source  of  most  of  the  zeal,  and 
of  all  the  confusion,  so  conspicuous  in  the  present 
anti-Papal  excitement.  We  have  hitherto  treated 
the  question  as  if  it  seriously  lay  between  the  Ro- 
man Catholic  body  and  the  British  nation.  But  the 
real  quarrel  is  felt  to  be  between  the  Papal  and  the 
Anglican  headships,  and  between  the  rival  Episco- 
pates proceeding  from  them  and  now  existing  side 
by  side.  "Whoever  sees,  in  the  vehemence  of  the 
storm  now  raging,  a  comforting  proof  of  the  Protes- 
tant spirit  of  the  English  Establishment,  puts  a  very 
false  reading  on  the  signs  of  the  times.  We  do  not 
hesitate  to  say,  that,  in  one  aspect,  it  is  the  strongest 
symptom  which  has  appeared  since  the  time  of  the 
Stuarts  of  the  profoundly  sacerdotal  *  character  of 
our  Church,  and  its  intense  alienation  from  the  Re- 
formed religion.  For  whence,  and  on  what  occa- 
sion, is  this  mighty  outburst  of  indignation?  Does 
it  break  forth  on  the  appearance  of  some  devastat- 
ing heresy^  and  take  some  glorious  and  threatened 
truth  under  the  protection  of  its  enthusiasm  ?  Not 
at  all;  no  alarming  doctrine,  no  insidious  book,  no 
new  missionary  of  error,  has  been  introduced  into 
the  land;  the  people  believe  to-day  what  they  be- 
lieved three  months  ago ;  no  fresh  agency,  not  so 

*  Throughout  this  paper  we  use  the  word  "  Priest,"  not  loosely,  as 
merely  equivalent  to  "  Minister,"  but  in  the  proper  hieratic  sense,  to 
denote  a  person  who  interposes  himself  between  man  and  God,  and 
claims  to  be  the  indispensable  medium  of  their  effectual  communica- 
tion. This  idea  must  be  carried  into  all  the  kindred  words,  "  sacerdo- 
tal," "  pontifical " ;  and,  with  the  needful  modification,  into  the  word 
"altar"  as  opposed  to  "communion-table." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       407 

much  as  a  single  priest,  has  been  added  to  the  pow- 
ers of  "  perversion  "  existing  before.  Nay,  the  expe- 
rience of  seventeen  years,  during  which  the  so-called 
"Anglican"  movement  has  been  going  on,  has 
shown  with  what  patience  every  distinctive  feature  of 
the  Pontifical  creed  and  discipline  might  be  contem- 
plated ;  how  complacently  bishops  could  negotiate 
with  these,  how  meekly  endure  the  new  grandeur 
they  conferred,  so  long  as  the  oracle  came  from  Ox- 
ford, not  from  Rome,  and  the  apostolic  glory,  ex- 
posed to  no  colnpetition,  enjoyed  the  monopoly  at 
home.  Nearly  two  thousand  clergymen  passed  si- 
lently into  the  English  Church,  to  teach  every  thing 
Roman  except  the  Primacy  of  Rome ;  and  the  ser- 
vices of  this  powerful  ambuscade  against  the  march 
and  fortresses  of  the  Reformation,  are  quietly  accept- 
ed in  every  diocese  of  the  land :  twelve  Romish 
priests  do  but  change  their  title  and  their  dress,  and 
the  whole  bench  of  bishops  is  convulsed.  Why  is 
this?  and  what  means  the  language  in  which  the 
change  is  denounced  as  an  "  aggression,"  a  "  usurpa- 
tion," an  "  invasion  "  ?  "  Usurpation  "  is  the  violent 
seizure  of  power  from  the  sole  rightful  possessor ; 
and  when  such  an  act  is  charged,  it  implies  that  the 
accuser  is  smarting  under  the  feelings  of  injured  le- 
gitimacy. The  anger  of  the  clergy  arises  from  their 
holding  the  very  same  doctrine  with  their  oppo- 
nents; viz.  that  on  the  same  spot  there  cannot  be 
more  than  one  bishop ;  that,  if  two  appear,  one  or 
the  other  must  be  a  pretender,  and  must  be  got  rid 
of,  unless  both  are  to  become  ridiculous;  that  the 
very  nature  of  their  office  is  lost  if  the  title  be  dis- 


408  MARTINEAU'g    MISCELLANIES. 

tributed.  If  the  episcopal  form  of  church  govern- 
ment were  held  simply  as  the  best  human  contri- 
vance for  maintaining  the  order  of  a  Christian  com- 
munity, there  would  be  no  conceivable  reason  why 
one  denomination  after  another  should  not  be 
thought  free  to  adopt  it ;  and  those  who  admired  it 
would  naturally  rejoice  to  see  their  own  judgment 
and  preference  confirmed  by  the  concurrence  and 
practice  of  other  bodies  of  disciples.  That  the  op- 
posite feeling  prevails,  convicts  our  Church  of  hold- 
ing Episcopacy  as  a  supernatural  institution,  and  of 
claiming  the  very  same  perpetual  apostleship  which 
is  maintained  by  the  Romish  theory.  In  a  new 
bishop  is  seen,  not  a  superintendent  of  a  separate 
class  of  religious  societies,  but  a  rival  assertor  of  the 
same  indivisible  authority.  What  now  does  that 
authority  include  ?  The  exclusive  possession  of  all 
the  means  of  grace;  the  sole  power  of  transmitting 
the  Holy  Spirit;  the  nomination  of  trustees  for  the 
divine  sacraments,  of  the  stewards  of  absolution  and 
the  remission  of  sins.  The  sacerdotalism  of  the 
English  Church  is  as  absolute  as  that  of  the  Ro- 
man. It  matters  little  whether  the  sacraments  be 
more  or  fewer ;  whether  their  modus  operandi  be  a 
little  more  subjective  or  a  little  more  objective ; 
whether  the  right  to  absolve  be  used  with  the  healthy 
or  only  with  the  sick,  —  so  long  as  a  ritual  purifica- 
tion of  human  nature  is  pronounced  indispensable, 
and  the  patent-right  to  effect  it  is  conceded  by  a  jus 
divinum  to  a  certain  body  of  men,  the  whole  mis- 
chief of  the  Papal  scheme  remains.  The  discon- 
nection from  Rome  simply  renders  the  evil  provin- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        409 

cial  instead  of  universal ;  but  the  malady,  by  becom- 
ing insular  instead  of  continental,  does  not  abate  its 
danger.  In  every  form  and  in  every  degree,  media- 
torial persons  intrusted  with  mediatorial  substances, 
and  standing  with  supernatural  incantations  between 
man  and  God,  are  perilous  to  the  well-being  of  the 
State.  They  occupy  a  position  above  the  law :  they 
constitute  a  polity  distinct  from  the  civil  organiza- 
tion, and  are  never  content  till  it  is  subordinated  to 
their  ends.  No  statesman  can  expect  ecclesiastic 
peace  till  every  trace  of  priestly  doctrine  is  removed 
from  the  formularies  of  the  Church,  as  it  already  is 
from  the  heart  of  the  nation;  and  the  sacramental 
offices  retained  from  the  Pontifical  Church  be  re- 
duced to  the  simply  memorial  rites  of  the  Helvetic 
Reformation.  No  clergy  can  expect  free  action  in 
alliance  with  the  State,  so  long  as  they  claim  func- 
tions involving  the  irresponsible  supremacy  of  their 
order.  On  the  theological  evidence  of  the  sacerdo- 
tal system  we  pronounce  no  opinion,  but  of  its  po- 
litical bearings  there  can  scarcely  be  a  doubt :  —  it 
disqualifies  any  religion  for  being  the  established  re- 
ligion. It  would  be  difficult  for  any  government  to 
take  the  twelve  Apostles  into  its  pay,  were  they  liv- 
ing in  Europe  now.  Their  miraculous  gifts  and  the 
movements  of  their  inspiration  would  spurn  the  con- 
ditions imposed  by  a  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer 
or  a  Minister  of  Public  Instruction.  Parliamentary 
committees  on  their  missionary  expenses,  and  blue- 
book  reports  on  their  xaPl<riJMrai  would  seem  an  intol- 
erable indignity :  Mr.  Roebuck  would  be  a  thorn  in 
the  flesh,  and  Mr.  Bright  a  messenger  of  Satan  to 
35 


410  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

buffet  them.  It  cannot  be  otherwise  with  apostolic 
men,  like  Henry  of  Exeter  and  the  holy  Incumbent 
of  St.  Barnabas.  Charged  in  this  world  with  a  di- 
vine mission,  they  are  above  being  judged  by  man's 
judgment;  and,  before  the  tribunal  of  the  nation, 
feel  like  Christ  before  the  bar  of  Pilate.  Trustees 
of  a  supernatural  endowment,  and  in  its  disposal 
acting  as  organs  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  they  can  make 
no  terms  with  secular  men,  who  think,  like  Simon 
Magus,  "  that  the  gift  of  God  may  be  purchased 
with  money."  Agents  of  a  heavenly  polity  for  rul- 
ing the  souls  of  men,  they  are  bound,  by  paramount 
obligation,  to  guard  and  administer  the  precise  form 
of  dogma  committed  to  them ;  receiving  it  pure  from 
the  Church,  and  neither  judging  it  themselves  nor 
suffering  others  to  judge  it.  This  class  of  ecclesias- 
tics are  very  provoking  to  the  statesman.  They  ap- 
pear perverse  and  obstinate.  He  cannot  moderate 
them ;  with  a  nucleus  of  incomprehensible  pride 
covered  by  a  surface  of  unctuous  meekness,  they 
slip  through  his  fingers,  and  pursue  their  course. 
His  canons  of  reason  and  theirs  are  hopelessly  at 
variance;  —  their  respective  modes  of  thought  never 
meet;  and  the  longer  they  negotiate,  the  less  do 
they  agree.  The  statesman,  less  enduring  than  the 
ecclesiastic,  and  wielding  the  keen  instruments  of 
decisive  coercion,  grows  angry,  and  cuts  short  the 
controversy  by  an  ultimatum  of  obedience  or  exclu- 
sion. He  can  do  nothing  else,  without  betraying 
the  best  interests  of  the  nation.  Yet  we  must  say, 
that  in  being  subjected  to  his  ban,  and  held  up  to 
the  indignation  of  the  people,  the  Anglicans  are  very 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       411 

hardly  used.  It  is  a  shameful  tyranny  to  retain  their 
doctrine  in  the  Prayer-book,  and  then  abuse  them 
for  believing  it;  to  bind  them  by  solemn  engage- 
ment to  a  sacerdotal  theory,  and  then  lose  all  tem- 
per when  they  reduce  it  to  practice ;  to  say  to  them, 
as  each  enters  his  office,  "  Whose  sins  thou  dost  for- 
give, they  are  forgiven ;  and  whose  sins  thou  dost 
retain,  they  are  retained,"  and  then  be  offended  at 
their  lofty  airs.  It  is  undeniable  that  the  sacramen- 
tal and  priestly  doctrine  embodied  in  the  Anglican 
movement  is  fully  authorized  by  the  formularies  of 
the  Church,  and  that  no  clergyman  who  disbelieves 
it  can  have  given  a  veracious  "  assent  and  consent," 
" willingly  and  ex  animo"  " to  all  things  contained 
in  them."  There  is  no  more  ground  for  charging  dis- 
honesty on  the  Anglican  party  than  on  the  Evangel- 
ical. Each  finds  its  justification  in  a  part  —  neither 
in  the  whole  —  of  the  Liturgy  and  Articles  of  the 
Church ;  but  the  Anglicans  being  in  the  minority, 
and  tending  in  a  direction  with  which  the  nation 
does  not  sympathize,  are  treated  with  opprobrium  as 
traitors  to  the  faith.  We  believe  them  to  be  the  most 
pernicious  men  of  all  within  the  compass  of  the 
Church  ;  but  also  the  most  sincere,  the  most  learned, 
the  most  self-denying;  the  most  faithful,  intellectu- 
ally and  morally,  to  the  ecclesiastical  training  which 
has  been  provided  for  them.  Had  it  been  possible 
for  them  to  win  over  the  majority  of  the  nation  to 
their  views,  and  had  logical  considerations  any 
weight  with  the  tribunal  of  popular  opinion,  they 
would  have  been  regarded,  not  as  the  insidious  cor- 
rupters  of  the  Church,  but  as  the  consistent  restor- 


412  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

ers  of  its  characteristic  principles.  Their  fate  is  deter- 
mined by  historical  combinations,  rather  than  by  any 
essential  principle  of  justice.  But  in  sacrificing 
them,  let  no  wrong  be  done :  let  the  act  be  one,  not 
of  disgrace  upon  persons,  but  of  preference  for  a 
principle:  let  the  expulsion  be,  of  priesthood  from 
the  Prayer-book,  not  of  priests  from  the  altars  they 
have  served.  In  driving  them  to  the  Vatican,  the 
Church  which  has  nurtured  them  in  Romish  tastes, 
committed  them  to  Romish  pretension,  and  shut 
them  up  in  a  University  the  very  focus  of  mediaeval 
revival,  owes  them  some  reparation :  nor  could  she 
present  a  more  fitting  apology  than  the  erasure  from 
her  own  system  of  every  line  that  has  misled  these 
erring  sons. 

Unless  this  be  done,  and  the  State  decisively  re- 
fuses to  recognize  the  Church  as  a  supernatural  cor- 
poration, the  evil  will  perpetually  recur.  The  de- 
mand for  ecclesiastical  supremacy  and  independence, 
however  dangerous,  is  irresistibly  reasonable,  if  the 
Church  be  the  holder  of  a  commission,  and  the  per- 
former of  a  work  which  no  human  power  can  touch. 
Concede  this  claim,  and  the  national  control  becomes 
a  manifest  tyranny ;  and  if  the  control  be  optional, 
the  claim  must  be  denied.  Hence  the  emphasis 
with  which  all  "  Churchmen  "  dwell  on  the  treasure 
of  "  dogma  and  sacraments  "  consigned  to  the  guar- 
dianship of  the  Church ;  and  on  the  right,  thence  aris- 
ing, of  a  lofty  bearing  towards  the  temporal  power. 

"  The  State  claims  the  allegiance  of  its  subjects  on  the 
ground  of  the  tangible  benefits  of  which  it  is  the  instrument 
towards  them.  Its  strength  lies  in  this  undeniable  fact,  and 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       413 

they  endure  and  they  maintain  its  coercion  and  its  laws,  be- 
cause the  certainty  of  this  fact  is  ever  present  to  their  minds. 
What  mean  the  array  and  the  pomp  which  surround  the 
sovereign  ?  The  strict  ceremonial,  the  minute  etiquette, 
the  almost  unsleeping  watchfulness  which  eyes  her  every 
motion,  which  follows  her  into  her  garden  and  her  chamber, 
which  notes  down  every  shade  of  her  countenance,  and 
every  variation  of  her  pulse  ?  Why  do  her  soldiers  hover 
about  her,  and  officials  line  her  anterooms,  and  cannon 
and  illumination  carry  forward  her  progresses  among  the 
people  ?  Is  this  all  a  mockery  ?  Is  it  done  for  nothing  ? 
Surely  not ;  in  her  is  centred  the  order,  the  security,  the 
happiness  of  a  great  people.  And,  in  like  manner,  the 
Church  must  be  the  guardian  of  a  fact ;  she  must  have 
something  to  produce,  she  must  have  something  to  do.  It 
is  not  enough  to  be  keeper  of  even  an  inspired  book ;  for 
there  is  nothing  to  show  that  her  protection  of  it  is  neces- 
sary at  this  day.  The  State  might  fairly  commit  its  cus- 
tody to  the  art  of  printing,  and  dissolve  an  institution  whose 
occupation  was  no  more.  She  must  do  that,  in  order  to 
have  a  meaning,  which  otherwise  cannot  be  done ;  which 
she  alone  can  do.  She  must  have  a  benefit  to  bestow,  in 
order  to  be  worth  her  existence ;  and  the  benefit  must  be  a 
fact  which  no  one  can  doubt  about.  It  must  not  be  an  opin- 
ion, or  matter  of  opinion,  but  a  something  which  is  like  a 
first  principle,  which  may  be  taken  for  granted,  —  a  foun- 
dation indubitable  and  irresistible.  In  other  words,  she 
must  have  a  dogma  and  sacraments ;  it  is  a  dogma  and  sac- 
raments, and  nothing  else,  which  can  give  meaning  to  a 
Church,  or  sustain  her  against  the  State ;  for  by  these  are 
meant  certain  facts  or  acts  which  are  special  instruments  of 
spiritual  good  to  those  who  receive  them.  As  we  do  not 
gain  the  benefits  of  civil  society  unless  we  submit  to  its 
laws  and  customs,  so  we  do  not  gain  the  spiritual  blessings 
35* 


414  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

which  the  Church  has  to  bestow  upon  us  unless  we  receive 
her  dogmas  and  her  sacraments."  —  Newman's  Lectures, 
p.  178. 

This  is  the  pretended  basis  of  the  English,  no  less 
than  of  the  Roman  Church.  The  pretence  is  palpa- 
bly false ;  all  consistent  teaching  being  utterly  lost, 
the  sacraments  having  become  the  centres  of  heret- 
ical disputes,  and  the  inconsistencies  of  the  formula- 
ries laid  open  to  public  exposure.  The  Act  of  Uni- 
formity, it  is  now  confessed,  enforces  a  heterogeneous 
congeries  of  theological  propositions  with  no  organic 
unity,  held  together  by  no  higher  bond  than  the 
printer's  frame  of  types,  and  incapable  of  coexisting 
in  any  mind  of  logical  grasp  and  moral  earnestness 
to  use  it ;  and  the  only  uniformity  which  it  secures 
among  the  clergy,  beyond  the  weekly  monotony 
upon  the  ear,  is  that  of  invariable  self-contradiction, 
of  partial  unveracity,  and  bitter  mutual  aversions. 
Nevertheless,  absurd  as  the  pretence  is,  of  a  supernat- 
ural trust  of  dogma  in  the  keeping  of  our  ecclesias- 
tics, it  has  not  been  relieved  of  its  mischief  in  being 
bereft  of  its  truth.  It  operates  powerfully  against 
the  most  salutary  and  moderate  reforms.  It  refuses 
to  recognize  the  fact,  impressed  on  the  whole  course 
of  history  and  necessitated  by  the  very  constitution 
of  the  human  mind,  that  religious  faith  cannot  be 
made  immutable  except  under  the  humiliating  con- 
dition of  universal  ignorance  and  apathy ;  but  re- 
quires, from  time  to  time,  new  intellectual  forms  for 
its  sincere  expression.  It  affects  to  shrink  from  every 
doctrinal  modification,  as  the  breach  of  an  eternal 
trust,  and,  to  evade  the  confession  of  fallibility,  will 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       415 

repeal  nothing  even  of  what  has  passed  into  desue- 
tude or  disgust.  This  hollow  profession  of  an  unreal 
unity  and  fixedness  most  unfavorably  influences  the 
character  and  culture  of  the  clergy.  The  national 
life  of  England  has  been  particularly  productive  of 
fresh  and  eccentric  varieties  of  religious  activity, 
which  the  sturdy  realism  and  moral  energy  of  her 
people  have  not  permitted  to  spend  themselves  in 
speculation  or  to  sleep  in  books,  but  have  pushed 
foward  to  take  the  command  of  events.  From  the 
Precisians  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign  to  the  Free 
Church  believers  of  Queen  Victoria's,  there  has 
been  a  series  of  intellectual  movements  connected 
with  religion,  so  important  as  to  color  the  whole 
complexion  of  our  history.  But  as  these  have,  for 
the  most  part,  been  suffered  to  take  place  outside  the 
Church,  they  are  not  in  favor  with  the  clergy ;  and 
whatever  part  of  the  infection  of  change  has  spread 
at  times  to  the  interior,  is  so  disturbing  to  the  theory 
of  a  doctrinal  stewardship,  that  the  periods  marked 
by  it  lie  under  disgrace.  The  clerical  habit,  there- 
fore, is  to  ignore  the  entire  existence  of  Noncon- 
formity ;  to  treat  it  precisely  as  the  Pope  now  treats 
the  established  schism ;  to  walk  through  history  like 
a  coxcomb  through  a  ball-room,  eying  his  nearest 
neighbors  as  if  he  had  never  seen  them,  and  looking 
another  way  when  an  inconvenient  acquaintance  ap- 
proaches. By  rights,  he  appears  to  think,  such  peo- 
ple have  no  business  to  be  there  at  all;  he  would 
never  have  allowed  it,  had  it  rested  with  him :  but 
the  admissions  were  settled  at  St.  Stephen's;  and 
with  such  a  miscellaneous  committee  of  manage- 


416  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

ment  as  that,  one  cannot  be  surprised  at  any  thing. 
Often,  indeed,  it  may  well  happen  that  the  clergy- 
man has  only  an  obscure  and  hearsay  belief  in  the 
reality  of  Dissenters.  His  father,  the  rector  of  a 
country  place,  "  never  allowed  them  in  his  parish." 
At  Oxford,  the  phenomenon  was  invisible,  and  never 
mentioned.  In  his  studies,  the  youth  had  never  been 
referred  to  any  Nonconformist  books,  though,  in  get- 
ting up  the  history  of  heresies,  he  had  heard  of  some 
great  discomfitures  inflicted  on  them  by  orthodox 
bishops.  And  now  he  is  curate  in  a  village,  from 
which,  a  month  before  he  came,  the  only  Dissenter  — 
a  Baptist  cobbler  —  had  removed,  because  there  was 
no  school  but  the  "  National,"  and  he  would  not  let 
his  children  learn  the  Church  Catechism.  And  so, 
of  the  stirring  religious  life  of  the  conventicle,  which 
gathers  into  it  so  much  of  the  energy  of  the  middle 
classes,  and  still  more  of  the  unreligious  and  alien- 
ated life  of  the  classes  below  this,  the  academic 
Churchman  knows  nothing.  Unless  his  lot  be  cast 
in  a  large  town,  he  lives  in  a  social  world  little  dis- 
turbed by  the  new  spirit  of  the  present  century,  and 
where  he  may  cherish  the  ideas  of  an  obsolete  gen- 
eration. Nor  is  it  only  in  his  narrow  view  of  his 
own  time  that  the  professional  perversion  is  seen  :  it 
corrupts  still  more  conspicuously  his  estimates  of  the 
past,  and  generates  historical  tastes  dishonorable  to 
men  of  English  birth.  Dreaming  of  dogmatic  unity 
as  the  indispensable  mark  of  the  Church,  and  find- 
ing no  clear  and  steady  traces  of  it  in  the  last  three 
centuries,  nor  much  pretence  of  it,  except  in  the 
Romish  and  Anglican  communions,  he  carries  all  his 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       417 

admirations  up,  along  the  narrow  path  of  Episco- 
pacy, into  the  mediaeval  period,  and  through  it  to  the 
dreary  ages  when  ecclesiastic  consolidation  took  up 
the  crumbling  Empire  of  the  West.  The  august 
image  of  an  indivisible  Christendom,  instructed  by 
the  fathers,  represented  by  the  Councils,  ruled  by  the 
Head  of  the  Church,  accompanies  and  fascinates 
him ;  and  we  know  of  no  preconception  so  powerful 
as  this  to  pervert  all  history,  to  spoil  all  purity  and 
manliness  of  taste,  and  to  produce  a  state  of  mind 
uncongenial  with  what  is  noblest  in  the  actual  life 
of  this  nineteenth  century.  He  sees,  upon  a  writer 
the  most  mean  and  tedious,  the  imprimatur  of  eccle- 
siastical adoption,  and  wastes  upon  him  the  rever- 
ence due  to  thought  and  genius.  He  allows  dog- 
matic grounds  to  determine  all  his  judgments  of 
human  character  and  literary  merit :  the  silliness  of 
Epiphanius  escapes  him,  lest  a  needful  witness  be 
lost:  for  fear  of  encouraging  Jovinan,  Jerome's  fa- 
natic passions  must  have  their  way :  the  apprehen- 
sion of  Arius  makes  every  thing  in  Athanasius 
"  great  "  :  and  the  presence  of  Pelagius  excuses  Au- 
gustine's persecuting  zeal.  The  bald  grossness  of 
the  Ambrosian  hymns  is  extolled  for  simplicity  and 
grandeur ;  and  the  conceits  of  Marbod  and  Hildebert 
for  poetic  richness  and  fertility.  Anselm  becomes 
the  model  of  a  philosopher ;  Aquinas,  of  a  theolo- 
gian ;  and  Bernard,  of  a  saint.  Kings  and  emperors 
are  estimated,  not  by  their  capacity  and  virtues,  but 
by  their  orthodoxy  :  Constantino,  the  murderer  of  all 
his  kindred,  Theodosius,  who  desolated  the  streets 
of  Antioch  and  Thessalonica  with  frightful  and 


418  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

almost  gratuitous  massacres,  are  applauded  as 
"  great,"  because  they  were  prodigal  to  the  clergy, 
and  merciless  to  heretics.  In  every  contest  between 
the  ecclesiastical  and  temporal  power,  the  "  Church- 
man's "  sympathies  go  with  the  former,  arid,  without 
regard  to  any  merits  of  the  dispute,  he  visibly  glo- 
ries in  the  abasement  of  the  crown  before  the  mitre ; 
it  is  a  triumph  to  him,  that  to  the  family  of  Valentin- 
ianthe  Second,  and  to  the  Emperor  himself,  because 
he  was  an  Arian,  every  church  in  Milan  was  denied, 
and  from  the  Basilica  the  chant  of  St.  Ambrose, 
ceaseless  by  night  or  day,  defied  the  soldiers  of  the 
prince;  and  he  loves  to  read  how  Becket  extorted 
penance  from  the  king.  But  above  all,  he  holds  in 
greatest  antipathy  the  whole  system  of  influences 
under  which  the  constitutional  liberties  of  modern 
England  have  been  matured.  The  Reformation 
under  Luther  and  Melancthon,  Calvin  and  Zwingle, 
is  contemptuously  disclaimed  as  a  vulgar  insurrec- 
tion of  private  judgment;  so  that  any  sympathy 
with  Continental  Protestantism  has  long  become  the 
recognized  mark  of  a  Dissenter.  The  whole  cluster 
of  modern  churches  is  swept  scornfully  away,  with 
the  pedantic  remark,  that  they  are  only  a  reproduc- 
tion by  ignorant  men  of  the  ancient  heresies :  over 
which  orthodoxy,  supernaturally  triumphant  once, 
will  return  in  full  tide  again.  English  Churchmen 
describe  the  Presbyterianism  of  the  North,  as  "  that 
form  of  schism  which  is  established  in  Scotland." 
New  literary  idols  are  set  up  even  among  the  writers 
of  their  own  communion,  and  many  of  the  older 
potentates  dethroned.  Of  the  elder  divines,  the 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       419 

High- Churchmen  are  alone  in  favor,  Andrewes  and 
Laud,  Jackson  and  Cosin ;  and  of  the  more  recent, 
the  nonjurors  awaken  the  strongest  interest,  Brett, 
and  Ken,  and  Beveridge. 

The  praises  of  such  men  as  Ridley  and  Parkhurst, 
who  would  have  brought  Zurich  and  London  into 
the  fraternity  of  a  common  reformation,  are  no  long- 
er heard.  Tillotson,  having  proposed  a  scheme  of 
large-hearted  comprehension,  is  regarded  as  a  traitor 
to  the  primacy  which  he  adorned.  And  in  propor- 
tion as  any  divine  has  enlarged  his  range  as  a  theo- 
logian on  the  side  of  philosophy,  he  is  set  aside,  with 
Cudworth  and  Clarke,  as  a  miserable  latitudinarian. 
In  regard  to  every  political  struggle  by  which  the 
nation  has  obtained  fresh  guaranties  of  civil  liberty 
or  made  a  new  step  in  religious  toleration,  it  is  fash- 
ionable for  "  good  Churchmen  "  in  our  days  to  sym- 
pathize with  the  doctrines  of  servility  and  oppression. 
Clarendon  himself  could  find  no  fault  with  the  mod- 
ern  clerical  view  of  "  the  Great  Rebellion  " ;  and  the 
settlement  in  1688  is  regarded  as  the  ill-omened  com- 
mencement of  that  fatal  series  of  changes  by  which, 
through  the  removal  of  tests,  Parliament  has  become 
a  medley  of  heresies,  and  the  Church  laid  prostrate 
before  Quakers,  Papists,  and  Socinians.  In  our  lit- 
erature, there  is  scarce  a  name  venerable  to  the 
popular  ear,  which  is  ever  mentioned  by  this  class 
of  men  without  a  gloss  of  disparagement.  Milton, 
unfortunately,  was  neither  orthodox  nor  prelatist. 
Locke  set  the  fashion  of  that  presumptuous  reliance 
on  experience,  which  is  the  root  of  all  infidelity  ;  and 
brought  into  vogue  that  sophistical  "toleration," 


420  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

which  amounts  to  "total  indifference  to  all  objective 
truth."  Bunyan  is  abandoned  to  the  coarser  imagina- 
tion of  the  Nonconformist,  while  Thomas-a-Kempis  is 
fitter  for  the  pocket  of  an  Anglican.  The  world  could 
better  have  spared  Adam  Smith  than  have  suffered 
the  dreadful  blights  of  Political  Economy.  This  sort 
of  taste,  which  for  twenty  years  has  been  fostered  in 
the  University  Churchman,  sets  him  down  as  a 
stranger  in  this  trading,  bustling,  practical  England. 
He  looks  with  simple  alarm  and  aversion  on  the 
characteristic  life  of  the  age,  its  vast  material  devel- 
opment, its  irresistible  and  crushing  growth  of  mech- 
anism, physical  and  human,  its  swarming  towns, 
its  distracting  mills,  its  noisy  agitations,  its  teeming 
press,  its  chaos  of  beliefs  and  unbeliefs.  In  the  days 
of  Queen  Bess,  it  was  not  thought  unfitting  for  re- 
ligious men  to  share  in  the  national  pride  awakened 
by  expanding  prosperity  and  power;  but  in  our  time 
an  ecclesiastical  cant  has  arisen  against  all  the  mark- 
ing features  and  moral  results  of  the  immense  pro- 
ductive power  and  commercial  complications  of  the 
empire.  We  are  not  blind  to  the  embarrassing  so- 
cial problems  springing  out  of  these  conditions ;  but 
there  is  no  solution  to  be  found  in  sneering  at  the 
politics  of  Manchester,  and  treating  the  West  Riding 
as  a  pandemonium.  When  the  appointed  guides 
of  the  people  despair,  it  is  a  confession  of  incapacity. 
In  these  smoky  towns,  too,  under  the  very  shadow  of 
the  mill,  they  have  but  to  deal  with  men,  each  with 
a  heart  in  his  bosom  and  a  faculty  of  thought  in  his 
soul.  If  danger  there  be,  it  is  that,  though  the  new 
forces  and  enlarged  quantities  of  society  be  not  in 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       421 

themselves  too  strong,  the  old  Church  provisions  for 
directing  and  organizing  them  are  quite  too  weak, 
and  may  be  shattered  and  humbled  in  the  attempt. 
In  reading  the  writings  of  modern  "  Churchmen," 
nothing  strikes  us  so  forcibly  as  the  intense  antipathy 
to  every  thing  distinctively  national.  The  Lectures 
of  Father  Newman  abound  in  bitter  sarcasms  on  the 
"  free-born,  self-dependent,  animal  mind  of  the  Eng- 
lishman," who  will  have  no  "  restrictions  put  upon 
grace,  when  he  has  thrown  open  trade,  removed  dis- 
abilities, abolished  monopolies,  taken  off  agricultural 
protection,  and  enlarged  the  franchise."  These  Lec- 
tures are  indeed  written  by  a  Roman  Catholic ;  but 
they  were  addressed  to  Anglicans,  and  by  one  who 
has  superlative  skill  in  the  selection  of  topics  adapted 
to  their  tastes.  The  following  passage  is  a  fair  speci- 
men of  the  ecclesiastical  feeling  towards  English 
life,  described  under  the  theological  sobriquet,  "the 
world." 

"  Were  it  to  my  present  purpose  to  attack  the  principles 
and  proceedings  of  the  world,  of  course  it  would  be  obvious 
for  me  to  retort  upon  the  cold,  cruel,  selfish  system,  which 
this  supreme  worship  of  comfort,  decency,  and  social  order 
necessarily  introduces ;  to  show  you  how  the  many  are  sac- 
rificed to  the  few,  the  poor  to  the  wealthy,  how  an  oligar- 
chical monopoly  of  enjoyment  is  established  far  and  wide, 
and  the  claims  of  want,  and  pain,  and  sorrow,  and  affliction, 
and  guilt,  and  misery  are  practically  forgotten.  But  I  will 
not  have  recourse  to  the  commonplaces  of  controversy 
while  I  am  on  the  defensive.  All  I  would  say  to  the  world 
is,  Keep  your  theories  to  yourself,  do  not  inflict  them  up- 
on the  sons  of  Adam  everywhere ;  do  not  measure  heaven 
36 


422  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

and  earth  by  views  which  are  in  a  great  degree  insular,  and 
never  can  be  philosophical  and  Catholic.  You  do  your  work, 
perhaps,  in  a  more  business-like  way,  compared  with  our- 
selves, but  we  are  immeasurably  more  tender,  and  gentle, 
and  angelic.  We  come  to  poor  human  nature  as  the  angels 
of  God,  and  you  as  policemen.  Look  at  your  poor-houses, 
lunatic  asylums,  and  prisons ;  how  perfect  are  their  exter- 
nals, what  skill  and  ingenuity  appear  in  their  structure, 
economy,  and  administration  ;  they  are  as  decent,  and  bright, 
and  calm  as  what  our  Lord  seems  to  name  them, —  dead 
men's  sepulchres.  Yes  !  they  have  all  the  world  can  give, 
all  but  life ;  all  but  a  heart.  Yes  !  you  can  hammer  up  a 
coffin ;  you  can  plaster  a  tomb ;  you  are  nature's  under- 
takers ;  you  cannot  build  it  a  home.  You  cannot  feed  it, 
or  heal  it ;  it  lies,  like  Lazarus,  at  your  gate,  full  of  sores. 
You  see  it  gasping  and  panting  with  privations  and  penal- 
ties ;  and  you  sing  to  it,  you  dance  to  it,  you  show  it  your 
picture-books,  you  let  off  your  fire-works,  you  open  your 
menageries.  Shallow  philosophers  !  Is  this  mode  of  going 
on  so  winning  and  persuasive,  that  we  should  imitate  it?  " — 
Lectures,  p.  209. 

This  invective  against  all  secular  forms  of  com- 
passion towards  want  and  suffering  addresses  itself 
to  a  feeling  exceedingly  lively,  we  fear,  among  the 
priesthood  of  the  English  Church.  They  certainly 
are  free  from  the  lecturer's  reproach;  for  who  ever 
found  them  singing  and  dancing  to  poor  human  na- 
ture, plying  it  with  picture-books,  or  even,  to  any 
great  extent,  with  the  alphabet?  Whatever  has 
been  done  of  this  profane  kind  is  really  not  to  be 
laid  at  their  door.  They  were  no  partners  to  Joseph 
Lancaster's  zeal  for  spelling,  apart  from  regeneration  ; 
and  had  it  depended  on  them,  not  an  unbaptized 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        423 

man,  from  the  Cheviot  to  the  Channel,  would,  to 
this  hour,  have  been  able  to  sign  his  name.  They 
were  guiltless  of  abetting  Raikes's  project  for  Sab- 
bath-breaking schools ;  and,  if  they  could,  would 
have  kept  the  precincts  of  every  place  of  worship  pure 
from  the  sacrilegious  presence  of  slate  or  copy-book. 
Dr.  Birkbeck  did  not  complain  of  any  rivalry  from 
them  in  the  establishment  of  Mechanics'  Institutes ; 
nor  are  the  cheap  concerts,  and  zoological  gardens, 
which  are  so  painful  to  the  son  of  St.  Philip  Neri, 
peculiarly  clerical  establishments.  There  were  chap- 
lains to  the  prisons  —  those  whited  sepulchres  — 
before  the  time  of  Howard  and  Elizabeth  Fry ;  the 
places  were  perhaps  quite  as  sepulchral,  but  they 
were  certainly  less  white.  In  fact,  lay  the  poor  Laz- 
arus at  the  gate  of  the  Romish  and  of  the  English 
priest,  and  what  is  the  difference  ?  The  one  will 
confess  him  ;  the  other,  reading  to  him  the  service  for 
the  visitation  of  the  sick,  will  "  move  him  to  con- 
fess " ;  and  both  will  give  him  absolution.  Neither 
of  these  "  comes  to  poor  human  nature "  exactly 
"  like  a  policeman " ;  neither  of  them,  we  devoutly 
hope,  is  much  "  like  the  angels  of  God  "  :  but  what- 
ever the  one  is,  the  other  is  surely  not  dissimilar ;  and 
the  lecturer's  sacerdotal  sarcasms  against  the  meth- 
ods of  secular  benevolence  and  social  administra- 
tion express  the  spirit  and  temper  of  them  both. 
The  only  difference  is,  that  the  priestly  element  is 
less  ascendant  in  the  English  than  in  the  Roman 
system,  and  that  our  Church  is  politically  too  de- 
pendent on  the  nation  not  to  be  distinctly  affected  by 
national  sentiments.  Instead,  therefore,  of  absolutely 


424  MAUTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

blocking  them  out  at  their  origin,  after  the  fashion 
of  an  Austrian  or  Bavarian  priesthood,  our  cler- 
gy (notwithstanding  honorable  exceptions)  obstruct 
their  course  and  hang  upon  their  rear,  and  follow 
with  antipathy  the  movements  of  a  generous  lay 
sentiment  which  it  is  their  place  to  guide  with  sym- 
pathy. It  is  undeniable  that  into  every  social  im- 
provement, every  extension  of  mixed  education,  every 
removal  of  religious  exclusion,  which  has  character- 
ized the  last  half-century,  the  Church  has  been 
reluctantly  dragged.  They  have  been  found  against 
the  changes  which  the  prevailing  feeling  of  the  coun- 
try, which  Parliament,  which  statesmen,  which  his- 
tory, must  regard  as  the  best  features  of  the  age. 
Were  this  a  truly  devout  conservatism,  the  enthusi- 
asm of  self-devotion  arresting  the  downward  course 
of  a  degenerate  time,  we  could  joyfully  do  homage 
to  their  fatal  zeal  in  clinging  to  the  untenable.  But 
who  can  pretend  to  discover  in  it  any  trace  of  the 
prophet's  quick  instinct  for  good  and  ill  ?  —  who  deny 
that  its  only  steady  principle  has  been  the  priest's 
tenacity  of  threatened  power  ?  If  there  is  a  spot  in 
the  empire  which  may  fairly  be  regarded  as  the  in- 
most shrine  of  the  Church,  authorized  to  express  its 
genius  and  will,  that  spot  is  Oxford.  Some  century 
and  a  quarter  ago,  John  Wesley  was  Fellow  of  Lin- 
coln College  and  Greek  Lecturer  there.  With  a 
few  companions,  recoiling,  like  himself,  from  the  prof- 
ligate habits  of  the  place,  he  took  to  heart  the 
appeals  of  Law's  "  Serious  Call,"  and  resolved  to 
live  with  the  invisible  realities  which  with  others 
served  but  for  a  stately  dream  or  a  mocking  jest. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        425 

In  the  cold  midnight,  beneath  the  truthful  sky,  he 
struggled  for  a  faith  worthy  of  so  great  a  sight.     He 
prayed   without   ceasing ;    he   fasted   in   secret ;  he 
passed  the  mystery  on  from   his  own  heart  to  the 
souls  of  others ;   and  led  the   saintly  life  with  less 
offence   to    creed    and    prejudice,   than    almost   any 
devotee  in  history.     The  son  of  a  High- Church  rec- 
tor, he   could  not  be  charged   with  unsacramental 
doctrine  or  Nonconformist  sympathies ;   he  denied 
the  Christian  baptism  of  Dissenters,  and  drove  them 
from    the    communion    as    unregenerate.     He   duly 
proved  his  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  by  preferring  a  mis- 
sion to  the  Indians  of  Georgia  to  a  parochial  provis- 
ion at  home,  and  the  fraternity  of  the  poor  Hernn- 
huter    to   the   aristocratic   priesthood    of  England. 
The  sequel  is  well  known ;   how  he  took  up  the 
labors,  while    others  boasted    of  the    privileges,   of 
Apostleship ;  civilized  whole  counties ;  lifted  brutal 
populations  into  communities  of  orderly  citizens  and 
consistent  Christians ;  and  in  grandeur  of  missionary 
achievement  rivalled  the  most  splendid  successes  of 
Christendom.     With  what  eye  did  the  Church,  as 
the  Mother,  and  the  University,  as  the  Nurse,  of  so 
much  greatness,  look  upon  his  career?     Did  they 
avail  themselves  of  his  gifts,  bless  Heaven  for  the 
timely  mission  of  such  rare  graces,  and  heap  on  him 
the  work  which  he  was  so  eager  to  do,  and  they  so 
much  needed  to  get  done  ?    Did  they  found  an  order 
to  bear  his  name  and  propagate  his  activity  ?     He 
coveted  their  support ;  and  so  clung  to  their  alliance, 
that  seldom   has   a  strong   enthusiasm   been   com- 
bined  with    such   moderation.     But  in  their   most 
36* 


426  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

favorable  mood,  they  did  but  stare  and  stand  aloof. 
It  was  in  vain  to  look  to  the  clergy  for  their  help ; 
he  was  driven  to  a  lay  organization,  and  even  a  lay 
ministry ;  the  Wesleyan  Chapel  became  the  rival, 
instead  of  the  auxiliary,  of  the  Parish  Church ;  and 
the  most  loyal  of  all  popular  religious  bodies  was 
absolutely  repulsed  from  conformity.  When  the 
leaders,  with  a  cart  for  their  pulpit  and  a  field  for 
their  church,  provoked  the  vices  and  passions  they 
denounced,  and  were  stoned  and  carried  off  to  prison, 
the  rector  was  less  likely  to  be  their  intercessor  than 
their  judge.  And  in  Wesley's  college  days,  where 
the  premonition  of  his  religious  movement  was  dis- 
tinctly given,  he  met  no  wisdom  and  affection  to 
protect  him  from  the  scorn  of  the  learned  and  the 
laughter  of  the  rich.  The  Apostle  of  popular  piety 
was  repudiated  and  contemned. 

Early  in  1829,  the  Duke  of  Wellington  became 
convinced  that  the  fit  moment  had  arrived  for  termi- 
nating the  contest  between  the  British  Government 
and  the  Catholic  Association,  by  removing  the  polit- 
ical disabilities  affecting  nearly  one  third  of  the  sub- 
jects of  the  empire.  Sir  Robert  Peel  had  represented 
in  Parliament  the  University  of  Oxford,  and  on 
adopting  the  resolution  to  act  in  conjunction  with 
the  Duke  of  Wellington,  resigned  his  seat,  and  asked 
from  his  constituents  a  verdict  upon  his  new  opin- 
ions. It  was  a  significant  election.  Had  the  attach- 
ment to  a  tolerant  policy  been  strong,  the  conversion 
to  it  of  the  most  practical  statesmen  of  the  day 
would  have  been  readily  accepted  as"  an  assurance 
that  state  expediency,  instead  of  hindering,  impera- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       427 

tively  demanded  its  application.  Had  the  spirit  of 
exclusiveness  been  weak,  —  a  mere  waning  tradition 
ready  to  die  out, — there  was  an  unexampled  oppor- 
tunity of  discarding  it  without  danger,  if  not  without 
reproach  ;  for  the  Universities  were  expressly  except- 
ed  from  the  new  sphere  of  honor  open  to  the  Catho- 
lics. The  result  is  not  forgotten.  The  confidence 
of  Oxford  was  transferred  from  Sir  Robert  Peel  to 
Sir  Robert  H.  Inglis  :  and  a  disinterested  testimony 
borne  against  all  concession  of  religious  liberty. 

But  perhaps  nothing  else  could  be  expected  from 
such  an  institution,  —  the  great  guardian  of  our 
Reformed  Church.  Perhaps  the  traditions  of  1687 
were  too  vividly  preserved,  and  the  tower  of  Magda- 
lene was  too  visible  a  monument  of  danger  from 
Roman  Catholic  aggression,  to  permit  the  least 
negotiation  with  so  insidious  a  faith.  Under  the 
tyranny  of  James  the  Second,  had  not  Popish  prin- 
ciples been  imported  into  the  place,  been  taught  by 
the  Fellows,  proclaimed  in  the  chapel,  and  occupied 
the  Bishop's  throne  ?  And  must  not  a  body  which 
had  carried  on  a  contest  with  a  king  in  such  a  cause 
be  jealous  of  its  Protestant  repute ;  and,  having  with- 
stood the  Declaration  of  Indulgence,  protest  against 
the  Act  of  Emancipation  ?  Let  the  answer  be  given 
by  events.  Four  years  after  the  election  of  1829, 
began  to  issue  from  Oxford  a  series  of  publications, 
in  which  the  whole  Protestant  theory  of  religion  was 
assailed  from  its  foundation  ;  the  Reformation  treated 
as  a  sacrilegious  rebellion ;  the  Continental  churches 
disowned ;  the  Patristic  theology  declared  authori- 
tative ;  private  judgment  solemnly  renounced ;  and 


428  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

Christianity  rested  on  Apostolic  succession,  sacer- 
dotal prerogative,  and  sacramental  grace.  It  seemed 
a  bold  undertaking  to  spring  up  in  the  very  fortress 
of  the  national  Protestantism ;  the  rash  prowess, 
perhaps,  of  solitary  and  miscalculating  zeal,  secure  of 
instant  rebuke  from  the  spirit  of  the  place.  Time 
has  undeceived  us.  So  congenial  did  the  Academic 
influences  prove,  that  the  leaders  in  the  movement 
appeal  to  their  success,  as  too  wonderful  for  natural 
persuasion,  and  giving  visible  evidence  of  miracle. 
Not  undergraduates  alone  worked  into  the  fervors  of 
romance ;  but  fellows,  tutors,  preachers,  and  profes- 
sors joined  the  Catholic  revival;  prelates  were  soon 
found  among  their  ranks ;  and,  were  any  one  curious 
to  compare  the  creed  of  Parker  with  that  of  Wilber- 
force,  it  might  remain  doubtful  whether  episcopacy 
in  Oxford  was  much  more  Protestant  in  1850  than 
in  1687.  At  all  events,  hundreds  of  clergymen  have 
learned,  in  colleges  speaking  the  voice  of  the  Church, 
principles  which  throw  contempt  on  our  revolt  from 
Rome,  and  on  all  that  we  have  won  from  the  six- 
teenth century  to  the  present  hour.  Oxford,  so  reso- 
lute against  the  Pope's  Catholics,  could  gently  nurse 
her  own.  Sacerdotal  claims  were  dangerous  only  in 
rival  and  in  foreign  hands.  She  fosters  them  against 
the  English  nation ;  but  keeps  them  all  within  the 
English  Church.  Thus  have  three  opportunities 
been  given  to  the  greatest  of  our  ecclesiastical  insti- 
tutions, to  declare  itself  in  relation  to  the  deepest 
national  interests,  —  Methodism,  Toleration,  Sacer- 
dotalism. It  pronounces  against  any  day  of  Pente- 
cost for  the  people ;  against  any  relaxation  of  dis- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       429 

abling  laws  on  account  of  religion  ;  and  encourages 
priestly  pretension  in  its  own  communion. 

The  operation  of  this  spirit  is  the  more  to  be 
deplored,  because  it  determines  the  temper  of  the 
higher  classes  of  English  society.  Politicians,  we 
are  aware,  are  accustomed  to  calculate  on  the  as- 
cendency over  the  clergy  of  lay,  and  especially  of 
aristocratic  influences.  And  no  doubt  the  system  of 
patronage,  and  the  opinions  of  wealthy  and  powerful 
parishioners,  cannot  be  without  their  effect  on  the 
clergyman.  But  in  quiet  times,  and  in  the  long  run, 
the  mental  action,  we  are  persuaded,  is  prevailingly  in 
the  opposite  direction.  The  squire  is  usually  a  man 
of  less  activity  of  thought  than  the  curate  or  the 
vicar;  and,  beyond  a  certain  range  of  political  judg- 
ments to  which  he  is. pledged  by  habit  and  profes- 
sion, is  not  likely  to  resist  the  steady  pressure  of 
sentiment  from  the  most  intelligent  and  venerated 
authority  in  his  vicinity.  The  remark  applies  still 
more  strongly  to  the  ladies  of  his  family.  Hence, 
whatever  tendency  exists  actively  in  the  clergy,  im- 
presses itself  on  the  great  body  of  the  country  gen- 
tlemen and  noble  houses ;  and  should  the  tendency 
be  unfortunately  in  contradiction  to  the  predominant 
bias  of  the  nation,  dangerous  social  divisions  are 
produced.  The  aristocratic  contempt  felt  towards 
Nonconformists  and  their  institutions  is  mischiev- 
ously enhanced  by  this  cause.  The  picture  .which 
Mr.  Miall  draws,  in  the  following  sentences,  of  cler- 
ical influence  in  the  rural  districts,  is  not  free  from 
exaggeration ;  and,  in  referring  the  evil  to  state  en- 
dowment, he  appears  to  us  to  mistake  the  nature  of 


430  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  malady ;  but  we  presume  he  expresses  the  prev- 
alent feeling  of  the  Dissenters,  and  must  be  received 
as  an  unexceptionable  witness  to  their  occasional 
experience. 

"  This  legalized  ecclesiasticism,  claiming  exclusive  right 
to  dispense  God's  Gospel  to  the  people  of  these  realms,  and 
casting  contempt  on  all  unauthorized  effort,  puts  itself  into 
jealous  and  active  antagonism  to  the  Christian  zeal  which 
sends  forth  into  our  neglected  towns,  and  amongst  our  stolid 
peasantry,  laborers  of  various  denominations,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  rescuing  immortal  souls  from  a  cruel  and  fatal 
bondage.  Every  one  familiarly  acquainted  with  our  rural 
districts  can  bear  witness  to  facts  in  proof  of  this  position. 
Go  into  almost  any  village  in  the  empire,  and  set  yourself 
down  there  to  win  souls  to  Christ ;  and  your  bitterest  foe, 
your  most  energetic  and  untiring  opponent,  will  prove  to 
be  the  clergyman,  —  the  state-appointed  minister  of  Jesus 
Christ.  The  very  first  symptoms  of  spiritual  life  which 
show  themselves  among  his  parishioners  —  social  meetings 
for  prayer,  anxious  inquiries  for  the  way  of  salvation,  eager 
attention  to  the  proclamations  of  the  Gospel  —  will  attract 
his  vigilant  notice,  and  provoke  his  severest  censure.  The 
thing  is  so  common,  and  has  been  so  from  time  immemo- 
rial, as  to  cease  to  excite  surprise.  Would  you  stir  up  in 
men's  minds  serious  concern  respecting  their  highest  inter- 
ests, the  parish  '  priest '  will  be  sure  to  cross  your  path  at 
every  step.  Gather  around  you  the  children  of  the  poor,  to 
instil  into  their  young  and  susceptible  hearts  the  truths  of 
the  Gospel,  and  instantly  their  parents  are  threatened  with 
a  forfeiture  of  all  claims  upon  parochial  charity.  Circulate 
from  house  to  house  plain,  pungent,  religious  tracts,  and  in 
your  second  or  third  visit  you  will  learn  that  the  vicar  has 
forbidden  their  reception.  Assemble  a  few  men  and  women 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       431 

'  perishing  for  lack  of  knowledge,'  that  you  may  preach 
to  them  the  message  of  reconciliation,  and  ten  to  one  you 
will  be  informed,  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  that  the  oc- 
cupant of  the  house  in  which  you  labored  has  been  served 
with  a  notice  to  quit.  It  matters  nothing  that  your  efforts 
are  free  from  all  tinge  of  sectarianism,  they  are  regarded 
as  intrusive,  irregular,  and  mischievous.  How  many  vil- 
lages are  there  in  this  country,  in  which,  through  clerical 
influence,  it  is  impossible  to  hire  a  room,  within  the  narrow 
walls  of  which  to  proclaim  to  rustic  ignorance  the  tidings  of 
eternal  life  !  How  many  more  in  which,  from  the  same 
cause,  misrepresentation,  intimidation,  and  oppressive  pow- 
er are  brought  to  bear  upon  miserable  and  helpless  depend- 
ents, and  to  scare  them  beyond  the  reach  of  the  gladsome 
sound  of  mercy  !  How  many  millions  of  souls,  hemmed  in 
on  all  sides  by  this  worldly  system  of  religion,  cry  aloud 
from  the  depths  of  their  ruin  to  earnest  Christians  for  help, 
whom,  nevertheless,  State-churchism  renders  it  impossible 
to  reach !  It  was,  doubtless,  with  this  melancholy  picture 
before  his  eyes,  that  Mr.  Binney  so  emphatically  pronounced 
his  opinion,  —  fully  justified,  I  think,  by  the  facts  of  the  case, 
—  that  the  Church  of  England  destroys  more  souls  than  she 
saves.'1  — p.  369. 

We  are  brought  back,  from  whatever  aspect  of  our 
ecclesiastical  affairs  we  choose  to  study,  to  the  one 
evil  which  impresses  all  foreign  observers  of  the  An- 
glican Establishment,  and  which  recent  events  ren- 
der so  conspicuous,  —  its  sacerdotal  character.  The 
Church  might  be  excessive  in  its  endowments,  aris- 
tocratic in  its  connections,  narrow  in  its  creed ;  but 
did  it  pretend  to  nothing  but  to  be  the  Nation's 
Church,  these  things  might  easily  be  mended  by  the 
nation's  will.  It  is  the  claim  of  a  supernatural  char- 


432  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

acter,  that  renders  its  exclusiveness  at  once  hopeless 
and  intangible.  So  long  as  this  claim  remains  un- 
effaced,  no  statesman  will  be  able  to  deal  success- 
fully with  the  ecclesiastical  problems  presented  to 
him,  and  must  be  checkmated  in  every  game  he 
plays  with  the  Episcopacy.  We  do  not  say  whether 
the  claim  be  true  or  false ;  but  we  do  say,  that  the 
Church  which  refuses  to  withdraw  it  is  ipso  facto 
disqualified  for  recognition  as  the  establishment  in  a 
nation  of  mixed  religions.  Prohibited  by  its  princi- 
ples from  becoming  comprehensive,  it  must  be  con- 
tent with  a  position  less  than  national.  It  is  the  sa- 
cerdotal doctrine  which  involves  the  whole  subject 
of  the  Royal  Supremacy  in  such  miserable  confusion, 
and  renders  the  constitutional  phraseology  of  the 
Tudor  times  wholly  inadequate  to  the  exigencies  of 
the  present  day.*  When  Henry  the  Eighth  re- 
quired from  convocation  an  acknowledgment  of  his 
prerogative  as  supreme  head  of  the  Church  in  these 

*  This  is  the  "  Oath  of  Supremacy  "  :  — 

"  I,  A.  B.,  do  utterly  testify  and  declare,  that  the  Queen's  highness 
is  the  only  supreme  governor  of  this  realm,  and  all  other  her  highness's 
dominions  and  countries,  as  well  hi  all  spiritual  and  ecclesiastical 
things  or  causes  as  temporal ;  and  that  no  foreign  prince,  person,  pre- 
late, state,  or  potentate  hath  or  ought  to  have  any  jurisdiction,  power, 
superiority,  preeminence,  or  authority,  ecclesiastical  or  spiritual,  with- 
in this  realm ;  and  therefore  I  do  utterly  renounce  and  forsake  all  for- 
eign jurisdictions,  powers,  superiorities,  and  authorities,  and  do  prom- 
ise that  from  henceforth  I  shall  bear  faith  and  true  allegiance  to  the 
Queen's  highness,  her  heirs  and  lawful  successors,  and  to  my  power 
shall  assist  and  defend  all  jurisdictions,  preeminences,  privileges,  and 
authorities,  granted  or  belonging  to  the  Queen's  highness,  her  heirs 
and  successors,  or  united  and  annexed  to  the  imperial  crown  of  this 
realm." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        433 

realms,  his  intention  undoubtedly  was  to  provide 
fully  for  the  consequences  of  his  breach  with  Rome, 
and  to  centre  in  the  Crown  all  the  prerogatives  which 
it  had  hitherto  shared  with  the  Papacy.  In  the  ap- 
pointment of  bishops,  he  had  already  possessed  the 
right  of  investing  them  with  their  temporalities ;  he 
now  acquired  the  right  of  conferring  on  them  their 
spiritualities  :  and  nothing  remained  in  the  whole 
process  of  making  or  unmaking  bishops,  to  which 
his  prerogative  wras  inadequate.  It  was  not  meant 
by  this  to  reduce  the  episcopal  office  to  a  mere  state 
appointment ;  else  there  would  have  been  no  occa- 
sion, on  discarding  the  Pope,  to  assume  any  new 
power  for  the  King.  The  purpose  was  not  to  lower, 
or  in  any  way  change  the  nature  of  Episcopacy,  but 
to  exalt  the  functions  of  Royalty  by  absorbing  into 
it  the  spiritual  rights  disengaged  from  Rome.  How 
the  lineal  Apostleship  of  the  Supreme  Pontiff,  and 
the  prerogatives  inherent  in  St.  Peter's  chair,  could 
be  imported  into  the  English  monarchy,  was  not  very 
clear.  But  the  difficulty  was  got  over  by  appeal  to 
the  divine  right  of  kings;  —  a  right  not  questioned 
in  those  days,  and  admitting  of  easy  extension  from 
the  sphere  of  natural  to  that  of  Christian  polity.  In 
acknowledgment  of  the  royal  supremacy  in  this  un- 
restricted sense,  Cranmer  and  other  bishops,  on  the 
accession  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  renewed  the  tenure 
of  their  sees,  by  taking  out  commissions  for  holding 
them  during  the  pleasure  of  the  Crown.  While  this 
notion  prevailed,  and  the  sovereign,  in  addition  to  the 
functions  of  chief  magistrate,  held  a  pontifical  charac- 
ter, room  was  left  for  the  maintenance  of  Episcopacy, 
37 


434  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

as  a  divine  institution,  annexed  to  the  sacred  prerog- 
ative of  the  Crown,  as  the  officers  of  state  belonged 
to  its  civil  dignity.  In  this  sense,  and  in  this  only,  is 
the  royal  supremacy  extensive  enough  for  its  avowed 
end,  namely,  completely  to  block  out  the  Pope  from 
this  kingdom.  It  soon  occurred,  however,  to  the  strict- 
er reformers,  that  an  oath  of  supremacy,  constructed 
with  such  a  meaning,  contained  two  positions,  —  a 
negative  one,  that  the  Pope  had  not  in  England  the 
supremacy  he  claimed  ;  and  an  affirmative  one,  that 
the  sovereign  had.  The  former  they  could  cordial- 
ly take ;  but  the  latter  involved  crown  rights  of  con- 
secration and  ordination  which  the  school  of  Geneva 
scrupled  to  admit.  It  was  important  to  gain  their 
acquiescence;  and  unimportant  to  insist  strongly  on 
any  thing  but  the  negative  part  of  the  oath.  A  fur- 
ther distinction  was  therefore  drawn ;  the  spiritual 
prerogative,  as  conceived  in  its  plenitude  by  Cran- 
mer,  was  divided  into  two  elements,  —  the  supernatu- 
ral or  pontifical,  in  virtue  of  which  the  Crown  would 
cease  to  be  a  lay  power,  and  might  confer  divine  offi- 
ces ;  and  the  simply  ecclesiastical,  in  virtue  of  which 
the  judicial  powers  of  the  Crown  were  to  be  liable 
to  no  exceptions,  and  the  canon  as  well  as  the  civil 
law  was  to  find  its  final  interpreter  upon  the  throne. 
By  insisting  only  on  the  latter  of  these  two,  and  ex- 
pressly disclaiming  "  authority  and  power  of  ministry 
of  divine  service  in  the  Church,"  Elizabeth  relieved 
the  scruples  of  her  Calvinistic  subjects,  and  rendered 
the  oath  unobjectionable  to  all  but  Catholics.*  The 

*  See  Hallam's  Constitutional  History,  Vol.  I.  p.  152. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        435 

consequences  of  this  restriction  of  the  spiritual  su- 
premacy are  curious.  It  no  longer  involves  any 
thing  which  the  Dissenter  of  the  present  day  could 
hesitate  to  own :  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Queen  over 
all  persons  and  in  all  causes  which  by  law  may  be 
brought  before  ecclesiastical  tribunals,  is  not  a  mat- 
ter which  he  is  at  all  concerned  to  deny.  Were  au- 
thority claimed,  indeed,  over  himself  in  the  concerns 
of  his  religion,  he  would  not  acknowledge  it;  but 
no  such  claim  is  made;  the  concerns  of  his  religion 
do  not  fall  within  the  legal  scope  of  "  spiritual 
and  ecclesiastical  things  and  causes "  :  were  they 
comprised  within  the  terms  of  the  oath  at  all,  it 
would  be  under  the  designation  of  "things  tem- 
poral " ;  for  as  the  Nonconformist  minister  is  a  lay- 
man, so  we  apprehend  is  his  church,  or  his  synod, 
a  secular  body  in  the  eye  of  the  law.  But  not  even 
under  this  title  are  any  affairs  of  dissenting  con- 
science included :  for  the  Queen's  temporal  suprem- 
acy goes  only  to  the  execution  of  the  laws,  and  can- 
not encroach  upon  that  which  the  law  leaves  free ; 
and  this  is  the  case  with  the  Nonconformist's  faith 
and  worship.  We  conceive,  therefore,  that  Cardi- 
nal Wiseman  mistakes  the  purport  of  this  crown 
prerogative,  when  he  says  :  — 

"  The  royal  supremacy  is  no  more  admitted  by  the  Scotch 
kirk,  by  Baptists,  Methodists,  Quakers,  Independents,  Pres- 
byterians, Unitarians,  and  other  Dissenters,  than  by  the  Cath- 
olics. None  of  these  recognize  in  the  Queen  any  authority 
to  interfere  in  their  religious  concerns,  to  appoint  their  min- 
isters for  them,  or  to  mark  the  limits  of  their  separate  dis- 
tricts, in  which  authority  has  to  be  exercised."  —  Appeal, 
Sec.  I. 


436  MARTINEAU's    MISCELLANIES. 

Certainly,  the  sects  in  question  recognize  no  such 
authority.  But  no  such  authority  does  the  royal  su- 
premacy include  ;  for  where  the  law  assumes  no 
control,  the  Queen  can  have  no  jurisdiction. 

But  why,  in  this  view,  need  the  Catholics  them- 
selves object  to  take  the  oath  ?  The  royal  suprema- 
cy no  more  includes  any  power  to  appoint  their  bish- 
ops than  to  name  a  Methodist  superintendent ;  and 
might  apparently  be  acknowledged,  without  preju- 
dice to  the  reserved  rights  of  conscience,  by  Dr.  Wise- 
man no  less  than  by  Dr.  Bunting.  A  Presbyterian 
minister  is  tried  for  heterodoxy  by  a  synod  which 
hears  the  cause  and  decides  by  vote.  A  Catholic 
priest  is  accused  of  publishing  an  heretical  book, 
carries  his  appeal  to  the  Pope,  and  is  required  to  re- 
cant. With  neither  process  does  the  English  law 
interfere;  and  if  on  this  account  the  Presbyterian 
trial  is  no  infringement  on  the  royal  supremacy,  how 
can  the  Papal  decision  be  so  ?  The  oath  guards  the 
sovereign  as  carefully  (though  less  in  extenso]  from  do- 
mestic as  from  foreign  interferences  with  the  prerog- 
ative; and  if  it  lets  in  the  Synod  can  hardly  keep 
out  the  Pope.  In  both  cases  the  interposition  of 
some  other  person  than  the  Queen  for  the  adjust- 
ment of  a  dispute,  or  the  determination  of  a  doubt, 
is  of  the  nature  of  mere  private  influence,  and  no 
more  constitutes  a  trespass  on  the  royal  supremacy, 
than  the  moral  power  of  a  father  over  sons  who  have 
attained  their  majority,  or  of  arbitrators  over  dispu- 
tants resorting  to  them.  The  Catholic,  therefore,  is 
not  hindered  from  taking  the  oath  of  supremacy  by 
the  spiritual  allegiance  which  he  owes  to  the  Su- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        437 

preme  Pontiff;  for  he  can  pay  that  allegiance,  and 
freely  move  within  the  pale  of  his  church  affairs, 
without  encountering  the  crown  prerogative  at  all. 
There  is  no  "divided  allegiance"  in  submitting  to  a 
legally  permitted  influence.  The  real  bar  to  the 
Catholic's  taking  the  oath  of  supremacy  lies  else- 
where. That  oath  requires  him  to  say,  not  simply 
that  the  Pope  "  has  not,"  but  that  he  "  ought  not  to 
have  any  jurisdiction  "  within  this  realm ;  and  this 
is  what  he  cannot  affirm  without  giving  the  lie  to 
his  faith,  which  teaches  him  that  the  Pope,  of  divine 
right,  is  entitled  to  that  appellate  jurisdiction,  which, 
for  three  centuries,  England  has  improperly  denied 
to  him.  In  refusing  the  oath  of  supremacy,  the 
Catholic  must  therefore  be  regarded,  not  as  the  jeal- 
ous guardian  of  his  own  spiritual  allegiance,  but  as 
protester  against  others'  spiritual  defection.  By  the 
act  of  1829,  which  sanctions  his  refusal  and  substi- 
tutes another  form,  the  right  is  reserved  to  him  of 
maintaining  this  protest ;  and  of  living  in  the  State 
as  a  person  who  must  always  desire  an  ecclesiasti- 
cal restoration  of  the  realm  of  Rome. 

Observe,  finally,  the  operation  on  the  Established 
Church  of  Elizabeth's  lowered  interpretation  of  her 
spiritual  supremacy.  The  pontifical  prerogative  of 
the  sovereign  being  thrown  away,  the  divine  rights 
of  Episcopacy  lose  their  support  and  go  a-begging. 
Whither,  now,  are  they  to  look  for  their  legitimation  ? 
Formerly  they  claimed  in  right  of  the  Holy  See. 
That  title  being  cancelled,  they  held  of  the  conse- 
crating power  of  the  Crown.  This  having  disap- 
peared, what  becomes  of  them  ?  They  ought,  as 
37* 


438  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

dependents,  to  have  shared  the  fall  of  their  superior, 
and  vanished  from  existence  ;  leaving  to  the  bishop's 
office  mere  human  functions  of  ecclesiastic  adminis- 
tration, for  which  a  civic  nomination  would  serve  as 
adequate  credentials.  But  against  this,  the  liturgies 
and  offices  of  the  Church  were,  and  are,  a  standing 
and  insuperable  obstacle.  Who  was  to  say,  "  Re- 
ceive the  Holy  Ghost  by  the  imposition  of  our 
hands"?  Who  was  to  convey  the  stewardship  of 
Sacramental  Grace?  Was  the  disposal  of  Regen- 
eration in  the  patronage  of  the  Lord  Privy  Seal ; 
and  the  power  of  Absolution  in  the  gift  of  the 
Wool-sack  ?  So  long  as  these  supernatural  preten- 
sions formed  an  integral  part  of  the  Church  theory, 
they  must  be  vested  somewhere,  and  pretenders 
would  not  be  wanting.  There  were  but  two  resour- 
ces,—  to  reaccept  the  authentication  of  Rome,  or 
to  transfer  to  the  Anglican  hierarchy,  as  a  pontifical 
aristocracy,  the  prerogatives  alienated  from  the  mon- 
archy of  St.  Peter.  In  either  case,  the  concession 
made  by  the  Crown  is  of  no  profit  to  the  kingdom : 
the  claim  resigned  is  simply  reinvested.  The  whole 
Papal  authority  exists  among  us  still ;  and  in  divid- 
ing the  spoil,  the  Crown  obtains  only  the  Court  of 
Arches,  while  the  Episcopacy  come  in  for  the  keys 
of  heaven  and  hell.  Thus  the  pontifical  rights, 
which  seemed  to  have  become  as  disconsolate  ghosts 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  are  again  in  the  body  in  the 
nineteenth.  Like  the  unclean  spirits,  had  they  been 
cast  out  by  the  finger  of  God,  with  the  simplicity  of 
a  heavenly  command,  they  would  have  gone  to  their 
own  place  for  ever.  But  under  the  clumsy  exorcism 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       439 

of  human  policy,  they  have  but  wandered  awhile 
through  the  dry  places  of  ecclesiastic  controversy, 
seeking  rest  and  finding  none :  till,  seeing  the  old 
Anglican  abode  not  only  temptingly  swept  and  gar- 
nished, but  still  empty  of  any  diviner  spirit,  they 
have  returned  whence  they  came  out;  and,  being 
now  many  instead  of  one,  threaten  to  make  the  last 
state  of  that  Church  worse  than  the  first.  The 
Queen's  supremacy  and  the  nation's  Protestantism 
have  far  more  formidable  rivals  in  the  sacerdotal  pre- 
tensions of  the  Church,  than  in  the  titles  of  Catho- 
lic prelates  and  the  boundaries  of  Papal  dioceses. 

Politicians,  we  are  aware,  have  no  belief  that  any 
mere  theory,  like  that  of  a  priestly  polity,  can  have 
the  least  practical  effect.  They  do  not  deny  that  the 
Liturgy  is  too  Romish ;  but  they  rely  on  its  being 
counteracted  by  the  Calvinistic  tone  of  the  Articles, 
and  on  the  tendency  to  either  extreme  being  virtual- 
ly lost  in  the  predominant  good  sense  and  modera- 
tion of  the  English  people.  They  admit  that  the 
Church  scheme  of  religion  cannot  stand  the  test  of 
a  severe,  or  even  of  a  lenient  logic ;  that  it  is  not  a 
consistent  whole,  and  bears  evident  traces  of  the 
contradictory  energies  from  whose  balance  it  sprung. 
But  this,  they  contend,  which  spoils  it  for  the  think- 
er, recommends  it  to  the  nation.  There  is  some- 
thing to  suit  every  taste ;  and  he  who  finds  his  own 
sentiment  reflected  from  the  Collects  does  not  care 
to  test  it  by  the  Combination.  Compromise  is  the 
secret  of  all  united  action  and  united  profession ; 
and  the  moment  you  reconcile  the  formularies  with 
each  other,  you  split  the  Church  itself  to  fragments. 


440  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

Coherence  among  men  must  be  brought  about  by 
incoherence  in  their  creeds.  It  is  the  peculiar  glory 
of  the  Anglican  theology,  that  it  has  found  a  via 
media  between  the  unreformed  and  the  over-reformed 
Churches ;  enriches  the  cold  and  rigid  lines  of  Puri- 
tanic faith  with  mediaeval  coloring;  places  a  mixed 
trust  on  Scripture  and  tradition,  —  on  history  and  the 
soul,  —  on  the  priest  and  the  prophet,  —  on  reason 
and  authority,  —  on  truth  and  the  magistrate.  In 
this  way  extremes  are  avoided,  controversies  kept 
within  limits,  and  the  tempers  of  men  retained 
around  a  centre  of  mildness  and  sobriety.  The 
spirit  of  the  Church  impersonates  itself  to  the  im- 
agination of  the  statesman  in  the  form  of  a  bland 
Archbishop,  entirely  composed  of  unrealized  inclina- 
tions ;  a  little  evangelical ;  something  of  a  Church 
reformer ;  not  too  easy  with  his  clergy  ;  skilled  in 
charitable  words,  but  patient  of  exclusive  things ; 
content  to  leave  doctrine  as  he  finds  it ;  making  no 
attempt  to  steer  the  Church  in  storm,  lest  he  should 
wreck  it,  but  punctually  sitting  at  the  helm  and  read- 
ing prayers  for  it. 

This  favorite  style  of  defence  is  like  the  thing  de- 
fended, —  a  via  media  between  truth  and  falsehood  ; 
and  suits  the  national  taste  for  a  ready-made  opin- 
ion, without  the  trouble  of  thought  or  a  care  for 
consistency.  It  is  certainly  true,  that,  in  order  to 
effect  combined  action,  individual  views  must  give 
way,  and  a  course  be  assented  to  which  probably  no 
one  person  sharing  in  it  regards  as  the  best.  But 
there  is  a  manifest  distinction  to  be  drawn  between 
partnership  in  external  action  and  partnership  in  the 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       441 

profession  of  conviction.  You  are  member  of  a 
committee  for  building  public  baths  :  one  man  wants 
them  at  the  east  end  of  the  town,  another  at  the 
west ;  the  secretary  wants  a  brick  structure,  the 
treasurer  insists  on  stone ;  the  chairman  is  anxious 
for  a  Roman  design,  but  you  have  brought  a  plan 
from  Flanders.  In  these  various  suggestions  there 
is  no  absolute  right  or  absolute  wrong.  No  one  im- 
agines that  his  own  proposal  has  more  to  recom- 
mend it  than  a  certain  preponderance  of  advantage ; 
and  he  feels  that  his  duty  is  satisfied  when  he  has 
fairly  pointed  out  the  grounds  of  his  preference. 
Nothing  that  could  be  gained  by  substituting  his 
scheme  for  another  would  be  worth  the  risk  of  for- 
feiting cooperation.  The  primary  end  for  which 
the  combination  was  formed  is  gained  by  compro- 
mise, and  would  be  lost  by  unyieldingness.  But  sup- 
pose you  are  on  the  council  of  a  political  league,  en- 
gaged in  preparing  a  declaration  of  principles.  One 
member  moves  a  preamble  announcing  the  doctrine 
of  natural  equality;  another,  equally  intent  on  the 
abolition  of  serfdom,  believes  from  Scripture  in  the 
anointing  of  kings.  One  is  convinced  that  colonies 
are  a  mere  excuse  for  cost  and  jobbing,  and  should 
be  turned  adrift ;  another,  no  less  zealous  for  free 
trade,  relies  on  colonial  empire  as  a  main  element 
of  political  security  and  greatness.  One  is  for  an 
immediate  appeal  to  arms  ;  another  is  president  of 
the  Peace  Society,  and  insists  on  disclaiming  the 
right  to  take  away  human  life.  What  would  be  the 
reception  of  the  mediating  councillor  who  should 
rise  and  say ;  —  "  Gentlemen,  it  is  plain  there  must 


442  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

be  some  mutual  concessions.  There  are  many 
points  on  which  we  differ;  whether  there  are  any  on 
which  we  agree  all  round  is  the  less  necessary  to  de- 
termine, because  on  the  one  practical  conclusion  we 
all  concur,  —  We  must  have  a  declaration,  and  must 
uphold  our  league.  The  document  —  since  it  must 
be  signed  by  us  all  —  cannot  be  all  of  one  complex- 
ion ;  no  gentleman  at  this  table  can  expect  to  deal 
with  it  as  a  private  paper  embodying  just  his  own 
system  of  ideas.  But  among  reasonable  men,  look- 
ing mainly  to  the  practical  end  of  securing  adher- 
ents to  our  body,  there  can  be  no  desire  to  press  se- 
verely on  particular  views,  and  perhaps  questionable 
niceties.  The  Address  must  have  many  paragraphs, 
and  will  enable  us  to  assign  to  each  gentleman  a 
fair  proportion.  If  the  preamble  is  too  strong  on 
human  equality,  it  can  be  corrected  by  referring  in 
the  body  of  the  paper  to  the  divine  rights  of  the 
Crown ;  and  if  our  Quaker  friends  put  too  much 
emphasis  on  their  doctrine  of  passive  resistance,  we 
can  soften  it  by  a  postscript  demanding  that  the 
militia  be  called  out.  In  this  way,  nobody  will  be 
able  to  read  through  the  Declaration  without  finding 
something  to  approve  ;  all  tastes  will  be  suited ;  each 
one  of  ourselves,  having  for  the  sake  of  his  princi- 
ples put  his  name  to  something  that  qualifies  them, 
will  be  deterred,  in  case  of  controversy,  from  push- 
ing his  doctrine  to  any  hurtful,  and  (let  me  add) 
vulgar  extreme.  Amid  the  general  support  of  sensi- 
ble people,  we  can  easily  make  all  dissentients  ap- 
pear in  the  light  of  egotists  or  fanatics." 

If  such  proposals  as  these  would  be  intolerable  in 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       443 

relation  to  political  profession,  they  are  certainly  not 
less  so  in  reference  to  religious.  In  affairs  of  exter- 
nal action,  there  is  a  more  or  less  expedient  and  ef- 
fective, in  every  gradation.  In  declarations  of  faith, 
there  can  be  no  such  gradation,  nor  any  of  the  liber- 
ty of  honest  choice  which  it  allows ;  every  proposi- 
tion presents  itself  to  the  mind  as  either  simply  true 
or  simply  untrue ;  and  the  assent  to  it  is  either  abso- 
lutely veracious  or  absolutely  unveracious.  The 
rule  of  integrity  is  not  satisfied  when  a  man  has  pro- 
vided for  the  due  assertion  of  a  truth  ;  it  prohibits 
his  ever  being  consciously  a  party  to  the  assertion  of 
a  falsehood;  nor  can  he  compound  for  a  moderate 
allowance  of  fraudulent  statements  by  an  adequate 
mixture  of  positions  heartily  believed.  In  erecting 
a  public  bath-house,  the  supporter  of  brick  and  the 
advocate  for  stone  may  come  to  a  fair  agreement,  by 
deciding  on  a  brick  building  with  stone  facings. 
But  in  raising  the  structure  of  a  Faith,  the  Catholic 
and  the  Calvinist  cannot  honestly  settle  their  differ- 
ences by  embodying  sacerdotal  and  sacramental  doc- 
trines in  the  Liturgy  and  Rubric,  and  throwing  the 
Genevan  ingredients  into  the  Articles;  and  what- 
ever peace  is  secured  on  such  terms  is  morally  dis- 
graceful to  both  parties,  and  can  be  desired  only  by 
those  who  see  no  truth  in  either.  In  the  practical 
affairs  of  men,  compromise  may  be  brought  about 
by  inclusion  of  something  that  is  in  favor  with  each  ; 
but  in  faith  and  worship,  only  by  exclusion  of  what- 
ever is  offensive  to  any.  This,  we  are  convinced,  was 
the  principle  on  which,  originally,  the  services  and 
formularies  of  the  Church  were  framed.  There  was 


444  MARTINEAU'S     MISCELLANIES. 

no  "  compromise,"  in  the  degrading  sense  in  which 
that  word  is  now  continually  employed,  —  no  inten- 
tional admixture  of  truth  and  falsehood  out  of  com- 
plaisance ;  but  simply  an  abstinence  from  statements 
of  doctrine  in  which  concurrence  seemed  impossible. 
But  the  incongruous  mixture  then  unconsciously 
produced  is  no  longer  unconsciously  maintained. 
Amid  the  struggling  elements  of  the  Reformation  pe- 
riod, when  the  intellect  and  reverence,  usage  and  pow- 
er, were  settling  their  respective  claims,  the  just  log- 
ical boundary  between  the  new  and  the  old  systems 
was  long  undetermined  :  the  clearest  vision  could  not 
discern  it:  and  it  would  have  been  surprising,  had 
not  attachment  to  the  past  preserved  some  elements 
which  would  not  bear  the  scrutiny  of  the  future. 
The  historical  development  of  three  centuries  has 
since  exhibited  the  character  and  fixed  the  theory  of 
the  two  religions :  we  know  what  belongs  to  each : 
arid  the  controversies  of  the  last  fifteen  years  have 
clearly  elicited  this  result,  that  where  there  is  pontifi- 
cal doctrine,  there  cannot  be  Protestantism ;  and  that 
where  there  is  a  jus  divinum,  there  can  be  no  harmony 
with  a  free  State.  This  is  emphatically  the  discov- 
ery, legible  in  the  awful  handwriting  of  Providence, 
upon  the  surface  of  this  age;  dazzling  enough  to 
startle  even  the  heedless  multitude,  and  a  timely 
warning  to  those  who  would  restore  the  Church  be- 
fore her  days  are  numbered.  It  is  now  too  late  to 
sound  the  praises  of  compromise :  when  once  it  has 
become  detected  inconsistency,  its  charm  and  power 
are  gone ;  it  fascinates  only  the  sceptic  contemner  of 
mankind  ;  it  repels  the  truthful  and  the  noble.  The 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        445 

time  is  come  when  the  discordant  elements  must 
part :  either  within  the  Prayer-Book,  to  the  revival 
of  the  Church ;  or,  in  the  persons  of  her  disciples,  to 
her  dissolution.  So  far  is  the  preservation  of  the  via 
media  from  being  an  essential  to  permanence,  that 
it  is  the  most  certain  mark  of  a  transitional  and  tem- 
porary Church.  No  half-way  scheme  of  doctrine, 
throughout  the  ages  of  Christendom,  has  been  able 
to  sustain  itself  in  any  strength ;  Semi-Arianism, 
Semi-Pelagianism,  moderate  Calvinism,  are  transient 
phenomena  of  human  thought,  —  like  some  seed- 
less annual,  whose  root  dies  in  the  ground,  —  not 
like  the  natural  grass,  that  grows  for  ever.  What 
scheme  of  belief,  on  the  other  hand,  is  so  coherent 
and  compact,  what  ecclesiastic  administration  so 
uniform  and  unbending,  as  the  Roman  Catholic, 
whose  duration  and  extent  are  above  rivalry  ?  It  is 
vain  by  any  artificial  adjustments,  any  eclectic  com- 
position, to  coerce  incongruous  sentiments  into  part- 
nership. In  each  great  scheme  of  faith  there  is  a  vi- 
tal principle  of  its  own,  which  rules  its  development 
and  prescribes  the  conditions  of  its  vigorous  growth. 
To  force  two  into  the  same  organism  —  like  thrust- 
ing a  grape-seed  into  an  acorn  before  you  sow  it  — 
is  either  to  destroy  both,  or  to  waste  the  strength  of 
one  in  killing  the  other,  and  then  throwing  it  off 
when  dead.  Does  not,  indeed,  the  history  of  the 
English  Church  itself  show  the  inefficacy  of  a  mixed 
system  as  an  instrument  of  union  ?  Is  it  true  that 
she  has  retained  the  attachment  of  both  the  Catholic 
and  the  Protestant  class  of  minds  in  her  communion  ? 
On  the  contrary,  she  has  secured  the  love  of  neither. 
38 


446  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

No  Church  born  of  the  Reformation  has  driven  out 
half  the  number  of  Dissenters  :  and  as  to  Romanists, 
she  will  have  created  more  in  this  generation  than 
the  Jesuit  missionaries  could  steal  in  a  century 
from  any  other  communion.  Never  was  incompe- 
tency  proved  on  a  scale  so  gigantic ;  never  was  pre- 
tence more  preposterous  than  that  of  the  Church  to 
unite  believers  of  every  shade,  —  with  a  third  of  the 
religious  English  Dissenters,  and  a  third  of  the  em- 
pire Catholics!  Have  we  not  a  right  to  complain, 
as  British  citizens,  that,  boasting  to  be  national,  she 
cannot  keep  us  together?  Nay,  that  she  is  incapa- 
ble of  even  defending  us  against  the  very  religion 
she  was  erected  to  exclude  ?  —  and,  what  is  worse, 
actually  reproduces  it  and  supplies  it  with  a  centre 
of  fresh  European  life  ?  Moreover,  we  have  the 
melancholy  conviction,  that  nothing  whatever  will 
be  done  towards  cutting  out  the  root  of  the  evil. 
The  clergy  just  now  are  very  angry  with  the  Catho- 
lics ;  which  is  taken  by  simple  people  as  proof  that 
they  are  truly  Protestant.  There  are  some,  indeed, 
who  look  a  little  further,  and  suggest  a  revision  of 
the  Prayer-Book.  But  what  are  the  alterations  con- 
templated? A  shortening  of  the  Morning  Service, 
—  a  better  selection  of  the  lessons,  —  an  omission 
(unless  as  a  record)  of  the  Athanasian  Creed,  —  with 
such  a  reform  in  the  rubrics  as  may  exclude  Tracta- 
rian  histrionics:  all  good  proposals  in  themselves, 
but  leaving  the  active  source  of  evil  entirely  un- 
touched. The  real  mischief  of  such  a  phenomenon 
as  the  temple  of  St.  Barnabas  is  not  in  what  meets 
the  eye,  not  in  vestments,  lights,  and  postures  in  the 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        447 

piscina  and  the  almoric,  in  the  sign  of  the  cross  or 
swell  of  the  organ  ;  these  things  are  in  themselves 
matters  of  perfect  indifference,  and,  were  they  mere 
externals,  might  be  as  harmlessly  allowed  as  the  can- 
dles retained  by  the  Lutherans  not  only  in  their 
churches,  but  even  in  the  baptismal  service  at  private 
houses.  But  for  the  meaning  they  embody,  the  new 
excesses  in  these  things  would  be  mere  spiritual  fop- 
peries, which  a  bishop  might  usefully  castigate  with 
peremptory  contempt ;  they  are,  however,  much  more 
than  this;  they  are  more  even  than  the  mere  court 
etiquette  attached  by  custom  and  accident  to  the 
Papal  system,  disagreeably  reminding  us  of  discard- 
ed mummeries;  they  are  the  symbols  of  one  special 
thought,  the  clear,  deliberate,  precise  language  hand- 
ed down  for  its  picturesque  expression  ;  the  ceremo- 
nial that  surrounds  a  certain  doctrine,  which,  if  true, 
is  the  living  principle,  if  false,  is  the  consuming  dis- 
ease, of  pure  Christianity.  What  is  that  doctrine  ? 
That  the  clergyman  is  a  priest,  and  the  communion- 
table an  altar,  and  that,  by  letters  patent  from  God, 
it  is  only  through  the  hands  of  one  and  the  rites  of 
the  other  that  Divine  grace  can  enter  any  soul  of 
man,  and  sin  depart.  This  it  is  which  alone  gives 
significance  to  the  new  practices :  and  this,  unfortu- 
nately, has  full  warrant  from  the  Prayer-Book,  and, 
while  it  stands  there,  bids  defiance  to  the  resources 
of  Episcopal  discipline.  Till  it  is  cancelled,  the 
Tractarian  acts  with  reason  in  introducing  his  favor- 
ite emblems;  the  bishop,  in  prohibiting  them,  acts 
with  no  reason  at  all ;  the  one  has  an  idea  to  con- 
vey, the  other  has  none  to  exclude ;  in  the  hands  of 


448  MARTIXEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  one  the  contest  is  for  a  principle,  in  that  of  the 
other  it  is  an  empty  logomachy.  So  long  as  that 
element  remains,  there  could  be  no  more  foolish  task 
than  the  reform  of  the  rubrics  and  the  simplification 
of  the  ritual.  You  might  dress  your  clergymen  like 
Quakers,  furnish  your  chancel  in  the  style  of  Crom- 
well, make  your  communion-table  like  a  joiner's 
bench,  and  set  it  to  the  north  ;  you  would  find  that,  as 
silk  and  surplice  do  not  make  a  priest,  neither  can  co- 
ercive drab  and  sackcloth  unmake  him  ;  that  it  is  not 
the  altar  decorations,  but  the  altar  doctrine,  in  which 
the  grievance  has  its  life.  Take  the  sacerdotalism 
away :  say,  with  Luther,  that  every  Christian,  with 
only  the  inward  ordination  of  the  Spirit,  is  on  a  par 
with  priest  or  bishop,  and  that  the  minister  is  but  the 
delegated  teacher,  qualified  "  proprio  motu  et  gene- 
rali  jure " ;  *  and  all  the  millinery  and  upholstery, 
and  mystifications  of  the  sanctuary,  will  spontane- 
ously wither,  never  to  appear  again.  Some  of  our 
prelates,  many  of  the  clergy,  and  vast  numbers  of  the 
laity,  are  well  aware  of  this ;  they  know,  too,  that  the 
priestly  doctrine,  with  much  that  hangs  upon  it,  has 
no  real  life  in  the  heart  of  the  English  people,  and  is 
little  better  than  a  monstrous  unveracity ;  yet  they 
-will  leave  it  as  it  is,  will  screen  it  as  a  fundamental 
of  the  Church,  will  gladly  divert  attention  from  it  by 

*  See  his  Essay  to  the  Bohemian  brethren,  as  cited  by  Dr.  Moehlcr 
in  his  "Symbolism,"  Robertson's  translation,  Vol.  II.  p.  92.  Luther 
here,  as  was  too  often  the  case,  deforms  a  noble  truth  with  coarse  in- 
vective. "  Catholic  ordination  is  exhibited  as  a  mere  daubing,  shav- 
ing, and  jugglery,  whereby  naught  but  lying  and  idle  fools,  true  priests 
of  Satan,  were  made.  One  could  likewise  shave  the  hair  off  any  sow, 
and  put  a  dress  on  any  block." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        449 

a  vigorous  attack  on  the  mere  external  symptoms, 
which  engage  the  eye  and  the  passions  of  the  multi- 
tude. Englishmen  have  ceased  to  look  for  transpar- 
ent simplicity  and  directness  in  their  clergy,  except 
in  matters  which  lie  remote  from  the  dogmas  of  their 
profession,  and,  in  persons  like  the  Anglicans,  seized 
on  by  some  new,  perhaps  dangerous  idea.  In  the 
mass  of  the  order,  and  especially  in  the  prelates,  the 
class  feeling  is  well  known  to  be  so  strong  as  to  over- 
power the  natural  virtues,  and  enfeeble  the  Christian 
graces ;  to  give,  unconsciously  to  the  possessor,  but 
conspicuously  to  the  observer,  not  only  the  double 
tongue,  but  the  double  mind  to  work  it,  to  teach  the 
outspoken  the  arts  of  reserve,  to  bind  the  living  and 
truth-loving  intellect  to  the  dead  bodies  of  the  very 
errors  which,  in  days  of  nobler  prowess,  itself  has 
slain,  and  even  oblige  it  to  provoke  them  into  vivaci- 
ty again,  and  show  them  off  as  if  they  were  alive. 
No  amount  or  solemnity  of  profession  can  afford  the 
least  index  to  a  clergyman's  real  state  of  mind  in  a 
Church  where  Catholics,  Calvinists,  Latitudinarians, 
all  protest,  by  hundreds,  their  entire  and  detailed  as- 
sent to  the  same  elaborate  system  of  theology  ;  the 
result  is,  that  the  preachers  of  truth  in  their  own 
place  and  office  are  the  very  last  persons  in  the  na- 
tion to  be  believed  ;  that  the  pulpit  is  as  little  trust- 
ed for  sincerity  as  that  appointed  resort  of  hired  ad- 
vocacy, the  bar ;  that  the  letters  of  the  bishops  in 
crises  like  the  present  are  not  read  as  reliable  ex- 
pressions of  the  writers'  minds,  but  watched  as  diplo- 
matic manifestoes,  and  studied  as  the  artful  move- 
ments of  a  game.  Hence  there  is  no  hope  that 
38* 


450  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

any  bishop  will  do  more  for  the  Church  than  die  in 
it.  To  seize  the  moment  for  effective  revival,  the 
moment  of  detected  incornpetency,  of  inevitable 
change,  of  reanimated  Protestantism,  of  lay  interest 
and  enthusiasm,  of  pacified  nonconformity,  and  by 
trenchant  reforms  call  back  the  alienated  portion  of 
the  nation,  is  an  enterprise  beyond  the  aims,  and, 
mainly  on  that  account,  beyond  the  power,  of 
those  to  whom  England  is  ecclesiastically  intrusted. 
And  so  not  even  the  glaring  offence  of  the  hour  will 
be  removed ;  but,  after  stripping  off  a  few  of  the  blos- 
soms and  leaves  of  Romanism,  the  sacerdotal  root 
will  be  left  in  the  ground,  —  to  put  forth  anew,  when- 
ever brought  once  more  under  the  light  of  a  genius 
intense  enough  to  nurture  it,  and  under  the  hus- 
bandry of  Oxford  Apostles,  God  will  give  the  retrib- 
utive increase. 

But,  we  shall  be  asked,  will  you  not  allow  people 
to  believe  in  priests  and  their  divine  prerogatives? 
Would  you  pass  a  law  to  hinder  it,  or  compel  the 
High-Churchmen  to  erase  the  doctrine  from  their 
system  ?  Far  from  it ;  let  every  man  be  entirely 
free  to  profess  and  worship  according  to  his  con- 
science. We  only  say,  that  this  doctrine  operates  as 
a  disqualification  for  the  exclusive  alliance  with  the 
State  of  any  Church  that  holds  it ;  and  can  never  be 
politically  harmless,  except  where  either  all  sects  or 
no  sects  are  endowed  by  the  commonwealth.  The 
reason  is  plain.  When  a  body  of  men  tell  us,  that 
they  are  sole  trustees  under  God  of  a  certain  set  of 
dogmas  and  channels  of  grace,  they  are  bound  to 
guard  the  sacred  deposit  with  incorruptible  care,  and 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        451 

to  hand  it  down  from  age  to  age  without  the  shadow 
of  a  change.  Their  primary  obligation  is  the  preser- 
vation of  an  immutable  identity  of  teaching  and 
administration.  On  the  other  hand,  the  primary 
necessity  of  a  free  people  is  an  incessant  change  of 
thought  and  character;  and  the  primary  duty  of  their 
government  is  to  readapt  their  institutions  to  the 
successive  states  of  the  national  mind.  To  suppose 
that  this  law  of  change  in  human  society  will  make 
an  exception  in  favor  of  religion,  is  a  weak  defiance 
of  all  experience.  However  fixed  the  objective  sour- 
ces of  faith  may  be,  they  cannot  fall  on  changing 
minds  with  unchanged  results.  New  arts,  new  liter- 
ature, new  wealth,  —  an  altered  distribution  of  social 
classes,  —  a  quickened  circulation  of  ideas, —  a  copi- 
ous importation  of  foreign  thought,  —  inevitably  pro- 
duce a  different  people,  before  whom  you  cannot  pre- 
sent the  problems  of  religion  with  only  the  old  re- 
sults. The  State,  we  conceive,  must  look  upon  this 
as  a  fad;  and,  ere  committing  itself  to  exclusive  al- 
liance with  any  body  of  disciples,  must  stipulate,  as 
an  indispensable  condition,  that  they  have  a  flexible 
faith  ;  not,  of  course,  that  individuals  are  to  be  called 
upon  to  hold  loosely  by  their  own  convictions,  but 
that  there  is  to  be  no  bar  to  silent  and  spontaneous 
modification  from  age  to  age.  This  is  precisely  the 
condition  which  a  sacerdotal  communion  is  bound 
to  repudiate  :  if  it  remain  not  inflexible,  it  is  a  traitor 
to  its  stewardship  :  and  so  incompatible  are  the  du- 
ties of  the  two,  that  the  highest  faithfulness  of  a 
ternplar  church  is  supreme  unfaithfulness  in  an  Es- 
tablishment. The  coexistence  of  the  two  functions 


452  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

—  political  and  pontifical  —  is  simply  impossible; 
either  the  nation  must  give  up  its  will,  or  the  church 
its  trust.  This  is  better  understood  at  present  by 
the  priest  than  the  statesman ;  and  is  shown  with 
admirable  irony  in  the  following  sentences :  — 

"  As  physical  life  assimilates  to  itself,  or  casts  off,  what- 
ever it  encounters,  allowing  no  interference  with  the  su- 
premacy of  its  own  principle,  so  is  it  with  social  and  civil. 
When  a  body  politic  grows,  takes  definite  shape,  and  ma- 
tures, it  slights,  though  it  may  endure,  the  vestiges  and 
tokens  of  its  rude  beginnings.  It  may  cherish  them  as  cu- 
riosities, but  it  abjures  them  as  precedents.  They  may 
hang  about  it  as  the  shrivelled  blossom  around  the  formed 
fruit ;  but  they  are  dead,  and  will  be  sure  to  disappear  as 
soon  as  they  are  felt  to  be  troublesome.  Common  sense 
tells  us  they  do  not  apply  to  things  as  they  are  ;  and  if  indi- 
viduals attempt  to  insist  on  them,  they  will  but  bring  on 
themselves  the  just  imputation  of  vexatiousness  and  extrav- 
agance. So  it  is  with  the  Anglican  formularies  ;  they  are 
but  the  expression  of  the  national  sentiment,  and  therefore 
are  necessarily  modified  by  it.  Did  the  nation  grow  into 
Catholicity,  they  might  easily  be  made  to  assume  a  Catholic 
demeanor ;  but  as  it  has  matured  in  its  Protestantism,  they 
must  take,  day  by  day,  a  more  Evangelical  and  liberal 
aspect.  Of  course  I  am  not  saying  this  by  way  of  justifying 
individuals  in  professing  and  using  doctrinal  and  devotional 
forms  from  which  they  dissent ;  nor  am  I  denying  that 
words  have,  oral  least  ought  to  have,  a  definite  meaning 
which  must  not  be  explained  away  ;  I  am  merely  stating 
what  takes  place  in  matter  of  fact,  allowably  in  some  cases, 
wrongly  in  others,  according  to  the  strength  on  the  one 
hand  of  the  wording  of  the  formulary,  and  of  the  diverging 
opinion  on  the  other.  I  say,  that  a  nation's  laws  are  a  na- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        453 

tion's  property,  and  have  their  life  in  the  nation's  sentiment : 
and  where  that  living  intelligence  does  not  shine  through 
them,  they  become  worthless  and  are  put  aside,  whether 
formally  or  on  an  understanding.  Now  Protestantism  is,  as 
it  has  been  for  centuries,  the  nation's  religion :  and  since 
the  semi-patristical  church  which  was  set  up  for  the  nation 
at  the  Reformation  is  the  organ  of  that  religion,  it  must  live 
for  the  nation  ;  it  must  hide  its  Catholic  aspirations  in  folios, 
or  in  college  cloisters ;  it  must  call  itself  Protestant  when  it 
gets  into  the  pulpit ;  it  must  abjure  antiquity  ;  for  woe  to  it, 
if  it  attempt  to  thrust  the  wording  of  its  own  documents  in 
its  master's  path,  if  it  rely  on  a  passage  in  its  Visitation  for 
the  Sick,  or  an  article  of  the  Creed,  or  on  the  tone  of  its 
Collects,  or  on  a  catena  of  its  divines,  when  the  age  has  de- 
termined on  a  theology  more  in  keeping  with  the  progress 
of  knowledge  !  The  antiquarian,  the  reader  of  history,  the 
theologian,  the  philosopher,  the  Biblical  student,  may  make 
his  protest ;  he  may  quote  St.  Austin,  or  appeal  to  the  can- 
ons, or  argue  from  the  nature  of  the  case  ;  but  la  Reine  le 
veut ;  the  English  people  is  sufficient  for  itself;  it  wills  to 
be  Protestant  and  progressive ;  and  fathers,  councils,  and 
schoolmen,  Scriptures,  saints,  angels,  and  what  is  above 
them,  must  give  way.  What  are  they  to  it  ?  It  thinks,  acts, 
and  is  contented,  according  to  its  own  practicable,  intelli- 
gible, shallow  religion  ;  and  of  that  religion  its  bishops,  its 
divines,  will  they  or  will  they  not,  must  be  exponents."  — 
Newman's  Lectures,  p.  18. 

We  simply  borrow  the  lecturer's  argument,  and 
turn  it  round.  He  says  to  the  Anglican  ecclesiastics, 
"  As  an  established  clergy,  you  cannot  be  faithful  to 
your  priestly  vows  ":  we  rather  say,  "  As  faithful  to 
your  priestly  vows,  you  cannot  be  an  established 
clergy. "  He  says,  "  The  nation  will  constrain  you 


454  MARTINEAU'g    MISCELLANIES. 

not  to  serve  your  conscience "  :  we  more  respect- 
fully contend,  "  Your  conscience  will  constrain  you 
not  to  serve  the  nation."  The  divergence  of  the  two 
obligations  is  forcibly  brought  home  to  us  by  the  de- 
mand, just  now  so  frequently  urged,  for  the  revival 
of  convocation,  or  the  organization  of  some  new 
chamber,  for  the  settlement  of  ecclesiastical  affairs. 
The  question  immediately  arises,  In  what  capacity 
is  the  body  to  meet? — as  priesthood,  or  as  estab- 
lishment? —  as  divine  corporation,  or  as  human  ?  — 
as  answerable  to  God  alone,  or  under  responsibility 
to  the  nation  ?  On  the  answer  to  these  questions 
would  depend  the  whole  composition  of  the  assem- 
bly. Who  are  to  be  represented  ?  If  only  the  asso- 
ciation of  persons  bound  together  by  belief  in  the 
Articles  and  baptism  into  the  same  communion, 
then  must  the  representatives  be  all  Churchmen,  if 
not  all  priests  ;  they  must  qualify  at  the  parish  altar, 
and  produce  credentials  from  the  parish  register. 
But  if  the  national  Establishment  is  the  thing  to  be 
represented  and  discussed,  then  must  the  representa- 
tives be  drawn  indiscriminately  from  the  whole  body 
of  Establishers,  that  is,  from  the  nation  at  large  ;  and 
the  Assembly  would  be  but  a  duplicate  of  Parlia- 
ment. In  the  former  case,  the  definitions  of  doc- 
trine and  rules  of  discipline  adopted  would  be  sim- 
ply declaratory  of  the  sentiments  of  a  particular  sect : 
they  could  have  no  binding  force  in  reference  to  the 
ecclesiastical  constitution  of  the  country  :  they  could 
not  be  imported  as  new  conditions  into  the  compact 
with  the  State.  The  utmost  that  could  be  allowed 
would  be,  that  they  should  come  before  Parliament 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       455 

as  proposals,  —  if  approved,  to  become  law;  if  disap- 
proved, to  terminate  the  partnership  between  the 
nation  and  the  Church,  and  to  forfeit  the  temporal 
endowments  of  the  spiritual  corporation.  In  the  lat- 
ter case,  the  decrees  adopted  would  determine  the 
doctrine  and  discipline  on  which  the  nation  resolved 
to  insist  in  any  ecclesiastical  body  henceforth  admit- 
ted or  retained  for  endowment.  They  would  obtain, 
after  royal  assent,  the  validity  of  law  :  and  it  would 
then  remain  for  the  body  hitherto  established  to  de- 
cide whether  it  will  accept  these  conditions,  or 
transfer  the  national  trust  to  others  who  are  prepared 
to  do  so.  As  a  body  under  priesthood,  the  Church 
is  a  corporation  with  a  charter  from  on  high  ;  and 
when  its  affairs  are  in  confusion,  they  must  be  set  in 
order"  by  prayer  and  discussion  with  closed  doors  on 
the  part  of  the  corporators  themselves.  As  an  Es- 
tablishment, the  Church  is  a  corporation  with  a  char- 
ter from  the  State,  and  when  its  working  needs 
revision,  it  must  be  brought  before  the  legislature, 
for  reform,  not  only  in  the  administration,  but,  if 
requisite,  in  the  constitution  of  its  charter.  This  dis- 
tinction was  of  little  moment  during  the  first  century 
after  the  separation  from  Rome ;  because  throughout 
that  period  the  persons  composing  the  State  and 
those  composing  the  Church  were  the  same :  the  di- 
vine charter,  however  variously  interpreted,  was  uni- 
versally recognized  as  creating  an  incorporation 
which  was  to  be  coextensive  (at  the  least)  with  the 
nation :  the  idea  prevailed  of  one  only  Christian 
communion ;  and  even  those  who  could  not  join  in 
its  actual  conditions  hoped  to  obtain  changes  which 


456  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

would  bring  them  in.  All  ecclesiastical  differences 
lay,  therefore,  within  the  Church,  among  parties 
struggling  to  grasp  and  wield  in  their  own  sense  its 
undisputed  and  undivided  authority.  In  the  dis- 
putes which  arose  between  the  temporal  and  the  spir- 
itual powers,  —  in  the  variance,  for  instance,  between 
Convocation  and  Parliament  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
royal  supremacy,  —  the  collision  was  not  between 
two  classes  or  bodies  of  men,  but  between  two  func- 
tions of  the  same  body ;  between  the  clerical  and  the 
lay  element  of  a  single  communion.  But  since  the 
Restoration,  these  conditions  of  the  problem  have 
been  passing  away  ;  and  it  is  impossible  any  longer 
to  consider  the  State  and  the  Church  as  merely  two 
aspects  of  one  community.  The  Act  of  Uniformity 
was  the  commencement  of  that  fatal  policy  which 
seeks  unity  by  exclusion,  instead  of  by  comprehen- 
sion. By  driving  the  spiritual  exiles  to  despair  of 
their  return,  it  set  them  on  providing  separately  for 
themselves.  Compelled  to  regard  their  ejected  con- 
dition as  no  longer  provisional,  they  gradually  found- 
ed their  own  institutions,  educated  their  own  clergy, 
and  in  baptism,  ordination,  creed,  and  worship 
formed  themselves  into  independent  societies.  From 
that  moment  was  realized  a  condition  entirely  new ; 
namely,  the  coexistence  of  many  communions  on  the 
same  soil.  Still,  the  time  had  not  fully  come  when 
the  State  and  the  Church  should  be  composed  of 
different  persons  ;  for  the  Nonconformists,  in  turning 
their  backs  upon  the  Church,  had,  for  a  time,  to  for- 
feit their  position  in  the  State;  and,  for  relief  of 
conscience,  paid  the  price  of  their  civil  rights.  At 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        457 

first  treated  as  enemies,  then  endured  as  /ieVoiKoi,  they 
slowly  approached  a  recognized  isopolity.  Now, 
however,  they  fully  belong  to  the  State,  without  be- 
longing to  the  Church  ;  the  personal  range  of  the 
two  bodies  is  no  longer  coextensive ;  and  the  Church, 
in  its  relation  with  the  State,  has  to  deal,  not  with 
the  laic  function  of  her  own  life,  but  with  an  eternal 
power,  partially  in  the  hands  of  those  who  do  not 
own  her.  The  State,  in  other  words,  has  outgrown 
the  Church ;  and  in  readjusting  their  relations,  the 
legislature  cannot  narrow  its  view  to  the  old  ecclesi- 
astic circle,  and  work  within  the  conditions  there 
laid  down ;  it  is  bound  to  provide  for  the  nation  in 
its  enlarged  proportions ;  and,  as  in  the  case  of  a 
small  borough  expanded  to  a  great  town,  to  throw 
down  the  municipal  boundaries,  and  modify  the  cor- 
porate rights,  in  a  way  to  render  them  commen- 
surate with  modern  wants.  In  the  performance  of 
this  undeniable  duty,  Parliament,  amid  many  em- 
barrassing problems,  would  have  the  advantage  of 
one  principle  perfectly  clear;  namely,  that,  if  the 
Episcopal  Church  is  to  continue  in  her  established 
position,  her  sacerdotal  doctrine  must  be  withdrawn, 
and  her  pretended  charter  of  sacramental  trust  be 
surrendered  ;  because  this  the  whole  nation  beyond 
her  communion,  and  probably  the  vast  majority 
within  it,  entirely  disown.  Whatever  differences 
there  may  be  among  the  sects,  on  this  the  very 
fact  of  their  nonconformity  proves  their  unanim- 
ity. Were  this  removed,  the  work  of  producing  a 
truly  National  Religious  Establishment  would  in- 
deed be  only  begun.  But  while  it  stands,  not  even 
39 


458  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

can  a  beginning  be  made ;  a  hopeless  bar  remains 
between  the  growing  margin  of  the  nation,  and  the 
contraicting  area  of  the  Church,  —  a  bar,  moreover, 
scarcely  less  hateful  to  the  laity  within,  than  to  the 
unbaptized  multitude  without.  In  the  present  tem- 
per of  the  country,  there  is  a  happy  consent  between 
the  Dissenters,  and  all  but  the  retrograde  portion  of 
the  Church,  most  favorable  to  a  reform  of  the  Prayer- 
Book  in  this  sense.  The  external  forces  that  lie 
beyond  the  Anglican  pale  would  raise  no  storm  to 
interrupt  such  a  work ;  they  would  either  sleep 
around  it  in  indifference,  or  watch  it  with  supporting 
sympathy.  All  the  turmoil  would  spring  up  to  the 
interior.  Certain  it  is,  that,  under  such  a  charge, 
Dr.  Pusey  could  not  accomplish  his  vow  to  die  in 
the  Church  of  England.  The  moment  her  "  priest- 
hood" is  converted  into  an  unpretending  "  ministry," 
a  Tractarian  secession  is  inevitable.  But  however 
formidable  such  an  occurrence  might  be,  whether  it 
took  the  shape  of  a  new  schism  or  of  a  Papal  re- 
lapse, its  evasion  or  postponement  must  incur  a  far 
greater  danger,  —  the  perpetuated  reproduction  of 
Romanism  by  the  agency  of  the  Church  herself.  On 
this  point  we  have  the  judgment  of  a  very  compe- 
tent observer,  who  watches  the  course  of  events  from 
the  Papal  side.  The  Rev.  W.  Maskell,  having 
joined  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  records  the  fol- 
lowing opinion  in  a  letter  to  the  Morning  Chron- 
icle :  — 

"  If  ever  the  day  should  come  that  both  the  Prayer-Book 
and  the  Articles  should  speak,  whether  upon  this  side  or 
upon  that,  no  matter  which,  one  uniform,  consistent  Ian- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        459 

guage,  controversy  between  members  of  the  English  Church 
and  Catholics  must  take  a  very  different  line.  For  myself, 
I  do  not  hesitate  to  declare,  that,  in  my  judgment,  the 
strongest  of  all  our  hopes  rests  on  the  continuance,  unchanged, 
of  the  present.  English  formularies  ;  and  that  no  immediate 
accession  to  us  of  numbers,  however  large,  would  compen- 
sate in  the  end  for  the  slower  but  more  sure  gain,  from  an 
unceasing  flow  into  the  One  Church  of  men  inquiring  hon- 
estly for  truth." 

Leave  to  Rome  undisputed  occupation  of  the  sa- 
cerdotal field,  and  the  domain  will  soon  cease  to  be 
enlarged.  The  preparation  thus  made  for  national- 
izing the  Church  must  no  doubt  be  followed  up. 
The  first  effect  is  to  throw  out  a  large  body  from  her 
communion:  and  unless  this  be  compensated  by  re- 
inforcements from  without,  her  position  in  the  coun- 
try will  be  less  tenable  than  ever.  But  the  grand 
obstacle  in  the  way  of  such  reinforcements  is  re- 
moved, when  the  clergy  no  longer  pretend  to  hold 
the  dogmas  which  they  teach  by  any  higher  tenure 
than  that  of  private  judgment  and  conscience  in  in- 
terpreting the  sources  of  divine  knowledge.  Their 
responsibility  retires  within  the  modest  dimensions 
of  their  own  personal  sphere ;  and  asks  only  that 
their  conscience  and  their  teaching  shall  have  free 
scope  of  activity.  It  ceases  to  be  aggressive;  and 
being  conscious  of  no  title  which  others  do  not 
equally  possess,  they  exchange  the  insolent  ignoring 
of  their  neighbors  for  respectful,  however  firm,  dis- 
sent. Among  men  thus  minded,  of  what  religion 
must  the  National  Church  be  the  organ  ?  Assuredly 
of  the  national  religion.  It  is  vain  to  pretend  a 


460  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

duty  on  her  part  to  sanction  nothing  but  the  ab- 
solute truth.  She  has  no  resources  for  discriminat- 
ing the  absolute  truth.  With  the  repudiation  of 
pontifical  claims,  she  loses  the  false  semblance  of 
an  objective  oracle  for  the  determination  of  doubts ; 
and  can  do  no  more  in  this  matter  than  produce  in 
her  teachers  the  subjective  conditions  favorable  for 
the  discernment  of  truth,  —  the  sound  learning,  the 
Christian  temper,  the  unanxious  thought.  If  these 
claims  are  to  be  rejected,  not  in  vindication  of  indis- 
pensable freedom,  but  as  means  of  tighter  bondage, 
—  if,  when  they  are  gone,  we  are  left  with  a  creed 
simply  narrower  by  their  expulsion, — better  let 
them  remain.  But  we  are  persuaded  that  both  laity 
and  clergy  are  ashamed  of  the  ridiculous  affectation 
of  a  dogmatic  unity  to  which  every  Sunday  pub- 
lishes a  thousand  contradictions.  They  well  know 
that,  in  spite  of  this  pretence,  the  English  Church 
harbors  every  great  heresy  that  ever  provoked  the 
peremptoriness  of  Rome,  and  among  her  writers  of 
renown  can  produce  the  modern  counterparts  of 
Arius  and  Eutyches,  of  Pelagius  and  Sabellius;  nay, 
the  mere  politician  appeals  to  these  notorious  dif- 
ferences as  redounding  to  the  praise  of  the  Church, 
and  giving  evidence  of  the  wide  scope  of  liberty 
practically  enjoyed  by  her  members.  We  accept 
the  fact,  but  must  refuse  the  praise.  For  the  ques- 
tion occurs,  whether  the  Church  gives  this  latitude, 
or  whether  her  members  take  it.  We  cannot  consent 
to  credit  her  with  a  result,  which  all  her  resources 
are  always  strained  to  prevent  before  it  takes  place, 
and  to  disown  afterwards ;  but  which  she  is  at  once 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        461 

too  weak  to  suppress  and  too  uncandid  to  acknowl- 
edge.    Those  who  belong  to  her  communion  enjoy 
the  latitude  they  have,  not  because  they  belong  to 
the  Church,  but  because  they  live  in  England ;  the 
free  secular  spirit  of  which  is  too  much  for  the  eccle- 
siastical influence   in  the   opposite   direction.     He- 
retical clergymen  and  bishops  are  forced  upon  the 
Church  by  statesmen  who  look  only  at  their  personal 
qualities,   or  by  patrons  who  appoint  from  consid- 
erations of  family,  not  of  creed.     For  the  praise  of 
liberality  the  Church  must  wait  till  she  has  sponta- 
neously relaxed  some  one  of  the  dogmatic  restric- 
tions by  which  she  fences  her  rigid  orthodoxy  round. 
So  far  as,  without  doing  this,  she  admits  heterodox 
theologians,  it  is  by  a  shameful  (inveracity.     That  is 
a  price  too  dear  to  pay  for  any  dogmatic  comprehen- 
siveness :  nor  can  the  Church  relish  such  admiration 
as  was  once  lavished  by  an  esprit  fort  on  some  of 
the  sceptic  priests   of  the   first   French  revolution. 
"  Our  clergy,  to  be  sure,  are  all  perjured;  but  then, 
how  charmingly  liberal!"     If  we  are  called  on  to 
choose  between  an  intellectual  and  a  moral  good,  we 
are  constrained,  not  to  applaud  the  freedom,  but  to 
condemn  the  falsehood;  —  the  more  so,  as  all  the 
intellectual  freedom  is  undeniably  furnished  by  the 
spirit  of  the  nation,  and  all  the  moral  falsehood  by 
the  system  of  the  Church.     Latitude  on  these  terms 
has  none  of  the  benefit  of  an  allowed  liberty.     It  is 
a  mere  forfeiture  of  unity  without  the  gain  of  com- 
prehensiveness;  for  when  thought  larger  than   the 
creed  gets  in,  it  is  only  on  condition  that  it  be  not 
scrupulous.     Our  Church  has  thus  neither  enjoyed 
39* 


462  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  advantages  of  freedom,  nor  secured  the  rewards 
of  oppression.  She  has,  however,  effectually  de- 
stroyed the  pretended  plea,  that  in  her  teaching  we 
have  a  witness  to  some  system  of  coherent  and  un- 
alterable truth.  Absolute  truth  then  being  wrapped, 
if  amongst  us  at  all,  in  impenetrable  disguise,  cannot 
be  an  object  of  selection :  and  we  can  find  no  claim- 
ant for  establishment,  if  it  be  not  the  national  re- 
ligion :  and  what  that  may  be  is  happily  a  thing 
easily  determinable  by  vote.  In  revising  the  formu- 
laries, nothing  should  be  retained  which  conclusively 
offends  the  convictions  of  any  considerable  class  of 
worshippers :  its  retention  would  be  a  positive  griev- 
ance to  those  whom  it  would  repel :  its  omission 
would  compromise  no  religious  teacher,  provided  he 
were  free  to  supply  it  in  his  personal  preaching,  and 
to  seek  a  congregation  in  sympathy  with  his  belief. 
Such  a  relaxation  of  the  dogmatic  bond  would  prob- 
ably not  add  a  single  new  mode  of  sentiment  to 
those  already  existing  in  the  Church.  It  would  be 
simply  a  change  from  an  insincere  to  a  sincere  allow- 
ance of  inevitable  and  actual  varieties ;  —  a  change 
which,  we  are  convinced,  would  be  acceptable,  not 
only  to  the  essentially  veracious  mind  of  the  secular 
Englishman,  but  to  that  pure  and  faithful  religion 
which,  in  every  communion,  is  impatient  of  pretence, 
and  fears  no  reality.  The  State,  at  all  events,  can- 
not, in  its  dealing  with  ecclesiastical  institutions, 
proceed  upon  any  abstruse  theological  theory,  or 
limit  its  basis  to  the  decisions  of  Nice,  of  Chalce- 
don,  or  of  the  Westminster  Assembly  of  Divines.  It 
can  only  accept  the  facts  before  it,  and  recognize  the 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       463 

religion  which  has  living  possession  of  the  mind  of 
the  nation,  and  declares  itself  unmistakably  in  their 
labors  and  sacrifices  on  its  behalf.  There  are  but 
two  ways  in  which  this  can  be  done:  either  the 
strongest  of  the  actual  sects  may  be  taken  as  ex- 
pressive of  the  general  will,  to  the  exclusion  of  all 
the  rest ;  or  they  may  be  all  assumed  as  partial  dec- 
larations of  national  faith,  to  which,  as  a  whole,  no 
one  of  them  is  competent  to  give  complete  expres- 
sion. The  first  method  cannot  be  persisted  in,  with- 
out exposing  the  most  divine  element  of  civilization 
to  a  series  of  violent  revolutions,  and  enthroning,  in 
naked  might,  the  very  influence  which  is  to  teach 
the  world  the  inviolable  sanctity  of  right.  The  most 
powerful  spiritual  body  in  the  country  may  yet  com- 
prise but  a  minority  of  the  inhabitants.  Its  favored 
position  will  be  felt  as  an  injustice,  and  will  naturally 
provoke  a  crusade,  which,  on  the  first  confederation 
of  the  hostile  forces,  will  succeed  in  the  work  of  de- 
liberate destruction,  and  then  miserably  scramble 
towards  a  fortuitous  reconstruction.  The  second 
method  is  undeniably  the  true  exponent  of  the  pres- 
ent facts  of  society,  and  can  alone  restore  religion  to 
its  tranquil  and  dignified  position  above  the  secular 
rivalries  of  the  world.  We  believe  that  the  great 
mass  of  the  English  laity  would  rejoice  in  such  a 
change  in  the  formularies  of  the  Church  as  would  al- 
low the  gradual  return  to  conformity  of  classes  now 
excluded  by  scruples  which  no  honest  conscience  can 
despise.  Is  it  objected  that  but  a  slender  creed 
would  remain  if  it  omitted  every  thing  which  was 
inadmissible  by  Wesleyan  and  Baptist,  Indepen- 


464  MARTINEAU'S  MISCELLANIES. 

dent  and  Arian  ?  We  reply,  in  the  first  place,  that 
with  the  slenderness  or  fulness  of  the  creed,  the  State, 
in  determining  the  conditions  of  established  support, 
has  nothing  to  do.  If  there  be  enough  in  it  to  train 
good  men  and  citizens,  to  nurture  the  sentiments  of 
duty,  and,  by  spontaneous  reverence,  bring  about, 
and  in  a  better  way,  all  the  highest  ends  of  law, 
there  is  sufficient  to  entitle  it  to  recognition.  It  ex- 
presses the  weighty  fact,  that  the  noblest  aims  of 
civil  society  are  embodied  in  the  private  faith  of  its 
members,  and  anticipated  by  their  aspirations.  We 
reply,  in  the  second  place,  that  whoever  felt  the  creed 
to  be  defective  should  be  at  perfect  liberty  to  fill  it  in 
from  his  own  supplementary  convictions.  Beyond 
the  public  liturgies,  which  should  be  much  shortened, 
range  might  be  left  in  every  service  for  the  free  min- 
istrations of  the  clergyman.  It  would  be  no  doubt 
necessary,  in  order  to  secure  harmony,  under  this 
free  system,  between  the  pastor  and  his  people,  to 
give  the  congregations  a  voice  in  the  appointment  of 
their  ministers.  But  against  this  no  objection  can 
be  made,  except  on  behalf  of  the  patron's  interest,  — 
an  interest  which,  through  long  abuse  and  sordid  sale, 
has  become  so  odious  to  the  religious  feeling  of  the 
country,  as  to  be  plainly  marked  for  destruction,  un- 
less speedily  redeemed  by  compromise  with  the  prin- 
ciple of  congregational  election.  If  the  State,  by  a 
regulated  education,  such  as  it  requires  in  preparation 
for  the  other  professions,  provides  the  class  of  relig- 
ious teachers,  while  the  natural  affinities  of  churches 
have  play  in  allocating  individuals,  security  is  taken 
that  religion  shall  be  purified  by  passing  through  an 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        465 

enriched  and  practised  intellect ;  and  yet  an  appeal 
is  left  to  that  nameless  spiritual  instinct  by  which 
alone  the  presence  of  a  living  heart  can  be  detected. 
Under  such  an  arrangement,  the  Church  would  soon 
cease  to  be  disgraced  by  all  the  shameful  abuses  of 
a  close  corporation.  It  would  no  longer  be  true,  that, 
out  of  twelve  thousand  benefices,  eight  thousand  are 
transmitted  by  purchase  and  sale,  and  upwards  of 
three  thousand  in  the  possession  of  non-resident  in- 
cumbents. It  would  no  longer  be  endured,  when 
once  the  laity  are  admitted  into  the  concerns  of  the 
clergy,  that  laborious  pastors  should  starve  on  £  35 
a  year,  and  be  indebted  for  <£  30  of  it  to  Ecclesias- 
tical Commissioners,*  some  of  whom,  for  sixteen 
years,  have  enjoyed  from  the  Church  an  annual  rev- 
enue of  £  10,000,  and  appropriated  west-end  fines  to 
an  untold  amount,  modestly  estimated  at  half  a  mil- 
lion. We  fear,  indeed,  that  the  admission  of  more 
popular  control  into  ecclesiastical  affairs  affords  the 
only  hope  of  remedy  for  mismanagement  and  misuse, 
more  flagrant  than  can  now  be  found  in  any  depart- 
ment of  the  State.  The  diocesan  and  capitular  con- 
science is  too  easy ;  the  Parliamentary  check  is  too 
slow,  and  too  much  broken  by  official  obstructions ; 
and  nothing  but  a  local  and  provincial  element  of 
lay  administration,  the  recognition  of  a  municipal 


*  See  "  Return  to  the  House  of  Commons  of  the  Number  of  Small 
Livings  augmented  by  Grants  at  the  Disposal  of  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commissioners,"  June  4, 1850.  The  living  referred  to  is  the  Perpetual 
Curacy  of  Staindrop,  Durham,  page  31  of  the  Return.  How  many 
livings  of  £  5  a  year  are  unaugmented  by  the  Ecclesiastical  Commis- 
sioners is  not  recorded. 


466  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

principle  in  Church  affairs,  will  suffice  to  break  up 
the  sacred  oligarchy,  and  let  in  the  honest  daylight 
on  the  mystification  of  their  affairs.  The  rudiments 
of  such  a  scheme  must  be  sought  in  the  enlarged 
powers  of  each  congregation  for  self-government,  and 
the  concession  to  it  of  a  voice  in  the  election  of  its 
pastor. 

We  confess,  however,  to  a  doubt,  whether  a  plan 
of  comprehension  such  as  we  have  imagined  is  not 
now  too  late.  The  Church,  long  abandoned  to  the 
slumber  of  a  lazy  conservatism,  is,  indeed,  awake 
with  a  better  spirit,  and  abounds  with  devoted  min- 
isters and  high-minded  laymen.  But  in  an  age  so 
rapid  and  impatient  as  ours,  repentance  may  easily 
miss  the  tide ;  and  we  fear  that,  after  every  effort  and 
concession  has  been  spent,  England  will  remain  with 
many  churches  instead  of  one.  The  free  develop- 
ment of  separate  denominations  has  proceeded  very 
far.  It  has  created  a  number  of  powerful  organiza- 
tions, each  of  which,  in  its  continued  operation,  has 
worked  for  itself  a  distinct  social  channel,  and  ap- 
propriated a  scarce  disputed  domain.  It  has  cov- 
ered the  populous  portion  of  the  land  with  chapels 
and  school-houses,  and  so  accumulated  around  the 
sectarian  centres  of  administration  a  vast  cluster  of 
properties,  all  in  active  use.  It  has  called  into  ex- 
istence many  societies,  occupying  different  spheres, 
for  the  advancement  of  popular  education,  and  sev- 
eral colleges  for  the  cultivation  of  the  higher  learn- 
ing, and  the  special  training  of  a  Christian  ministry. 
After  English  society  has  so  long  set  into  these 
forms,  it  may  well  be  doubted  whether  their  contin- 
* 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.       467 

uance  has  much  dependence  on  the  phraseology  of 
the  Liturgy  or  the  breadth  of  the  Articles.  When, 
too,  it  is  remembered,  that,  if  the  variances  in  dog- 
matic theology  were  all  happily  smoothed  away, 
questions  of  ecclesiastical  discipline  would  arise, 
and  that  to  some  Nonconformists  Episcopacy  is  of- 
fensive, while  others  insist  on  the  independent  isola- 
tion of  each  knot  of  worshippers,  it  will  scarcely  ap- 
pear feasible  to  remodel  any  one  communion  so  as 
to  embrace  them  all.  Is  there,  then,  no  hope  of  that 
return  to  greater  unity,  after  which,  amid  all  the  din 
of  seeming  strife,  the  spirit  of  the  nation  evidently 
pines  ?  We  do  not  despair.  Nonconformity  is  now 
aware  of  its  inadequacy  to  the  complicated  wants  of 
the  nation ;  feels  the  heavy  burden  of  voluntary  tax- 
ation ;  and  begins  to  reckon  the  waste  of  a  number 
of  rival  efforts  of  the  same  kind  upon  the  same  spot. 
Moreover,  the  affinities  which  originally  distributed 
the  religious  population  into  its  several  masses  are 
rapidly  changing;  repulsions  are  acting  around  the 
centre  of  every  sect,  and  attractions  making  them- 
selves felt  across  the  borders.  Only  the  habits  of  a 
declining  principle  of  vitality  hold  the  present  forms 
together  ;  the  incipient  life  of  the  future  is  loosening 
them  for  unexpected  recombination.  Looking  at 
the  whole  matter  from  a  point  beyond  the  inclosure 
of  sects,  we  see  in  both  the  Church  and  the  Dissent- 
ers aptitudes  for  special  work  which  cannot  be  in- 
terchanged between  them  ;  and  we  see  vast  national 
endowments  which  ought  to  be  made  subservient  to 
the  impartial  spiritual  culture  of  the  whole  people. 
The  State  is  the  trustee  of  those  endowments ;  and, 


468  MARTINEAU'g    MISCELLANIES. 

as  judge  of  the  rules  by  which  they  should  be  dis- 
pensed, may  become  the  point  of  unity  in  which  the 
various  laborers  and  recipients  may  find  their  separ- 
ation lost.  It  is  not  unnatural  to  look  at  the  course 
of  public  education  as  affording  some  augury  in  rela- 
tion to  the  direction  of  ecclesiastical  affairs.  The 
competing  societies  of  the  Church  and  the  Dissent- 
ers (the  National  and  the  British  and  Foreign)  with 
the  Wesleyan  and  the  Catholic  school  associations, 
have  so  far  relaxed  their  severe  voluntaryism  as  to 
stand  in  common  relation  to  the  committee  intrust- 
ed with  the  distribution  of  the  Parliamentary  grant 
for  education.  Separate  in  their  actions,  free  in 
their  several  movements,  they  meet  in  the  presence 
of  the  State.  The  inherent  feebleness  of  voluntary 
institutions,  and  the  difficulty  felt  by  an  aristocratic 
corporation  like  the  Church  in  grasping  the  whole 
population  of  this  land,  may  surely  lead  to  a  similar 
ecclesiastical  partnership,  through  the  mediation  of 
the  civil  government,  commanding  for  the  purpose, 
not  a  mere  Parliamentary  grant,  but  the  vast  re- 
mains of  a  long-wasted  and  abused  Church  property. 
Thus  to  gather  up  all  the  religious  agencies  of  the 
country,  under  the  headship  of  the  State,  without 
encroachment  on  religious  freedom,  would  doubtless 
be  a  most  arduous  and  delicate  task;  yet,  in  the 
hands  of  a  great  statesman,  by  no  means  impossible. 
We  can  imagine  a  series  of  measures  by  which  the 
end  might  be  gradually  approached,  without  appar- 
ent offence  to  the  most  sensitive  conscience.  Were 
the  Act  of  Uniformity  repealed,  the  use  of  the  ser- 
vices of  the  Prayer-Book,  in  their  complete  and  unal- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        469 

tered  form,  would  no  longer  be  obligatory  on  the 
clergy ;  and  a  power  of  adapting  the  modes  of  wor- 
ship to  the  convictions  of  the  worshippers  would  be 
left.  Episcopal  ordination,  however,  would  still  re- 
main indispensable ;  so  that  the  external  boundaries 
of  the  Establishment  would  not  thus  be  enlarged, 
though  its  interior  latitude  would  be  increased.  In 
order  to  secure  this  further  advantage,  liberty  might 
be  given  to  parishes,  after  some  regulated  compro- 
mise with  the  patrons,  —  to  elect  their  own  ministers ; 
—  no  one  being  eligible  except  a  person  with  a  Uni- 
versity degree  and  ordination  or  recognition  accord- 
ing to  the  usages  of  some  one  denomination  known 
to  the  law.  This  would  enable  a  parish  to  become 
Wesleyan  or  Presbyterian,  if  such  change  accorded 
with  the  predominent  feeling  of  the  place.  To  meet 
the  financial  problems  to  which  such  cases  would 
give  rise,  it  would  be  necessary  to  vest  in  an  Eccle- 
siastical Administration,  fully  responsible  to  Parlia- 
ment, the  whole  of  the  Church  property,  with  pow- 
ers, duly  guarded  and  checked  by  locally  elected 
Boards,  of  redistribution  according  to  the  real  exi- 
gencies of  each  neighborhood.  But  not  only  must 
Nonconformist  persons  be  rendered  admissible ;  Non- 
confofmist  institutions  and  property  must  be  made 
susceptible  of  ecclesiastical  adoption.  To  accom- 
plish this,  it  might  be  provided  that,  on  the  surren- 
der of  any  Dissenting  chapel  to  the  ecclesiastical 
trustees,  such  chapel  should  lapse  to  the  National 
Church  estate ;  and  the  congregation,  ceasing  to  be 
a  private  club,  would  be  incorporated  into  the  pub- 
lic system,  and,  on  certain  conditions,  would  become 
40 


470  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

entitled  to  a  stipend  computed  in  the  compound 
ratio  of  its  necessities  and  its  beneficent  activity. 
The  conditions  referred  to  need  not  be  complicated, 
though  their  definition  would  require  the  utmost 
clearness  and  caution.  They  must  be  absolutely 
free  from  every  possibility  of  interference  with  relig- 
ious belief,  and  comprise  no  other  inquiry  than  in- 
to the  extent  of  social  service  rendered  by  a  society 
as  instructor  of  the  poor  and  the  young ;  and  in  the 
estimate  of  this  a  large  influence  should  be  assigned 
to  the  judgment  of  the  district.  To  secure  good 
service  in  the  clergyman,  a '  minimum  of  stipend 
should  be  fixed,  and  a  part  of  it  always  drawn  from 
the  efforts  and  award  of  his  congregation  or  neigh- 
borhood. Not  one  of  these  provisions  would  in  the 
slightest  degree  touch  the  independence  of  either  the 
Church  or  the  Dissenters.  They  do  not  meddle  with 
the  Prayer-Book,  except  negatively,  by  declining  any 
longer  to  enforce  its  compulsory  use ;  and  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Episcopalian  communion  might  freely 
settle  for  themselves,  in  any  representative  assembly 
possessing  their  confidence,  whether  they  would  al- 
ter or  wholly  retain  their  present  formularies.  A 
similar  freedom  of  internal  organization  and  govern- 
ment would  be  left  with  every  sect.  Nor,  agfain,  is 
there  the  least  interference  with  those  Nonconform- 
ist Societies  who  might  choose  to  remain  on  the 
basis  of  pure  voluntaryism.  They  are  exposed  to 
no  disadvantage,  made  liable  to  no  tax,  and,  for 
aught  they  would  ever  meet  with  in  their  own  ex- 
perience, might  remain  unconscious  that  any  altera- 
tion had  been  made.  One  political  change  of  seri- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  CHURCHES.        471 

cms  magnitude  would,  however,  be  involved  in  such 
a  series  of  measures.  All  ground  would  be  removed 
for  retaining  the  bishops  in  the  House  of  Lords. 
The  religious  communion  to  which  they  belong 
would  be  only  one  among  several  churches  em- 
braced within  the  national  establishment;  and  if  the 
Episcopalians  were  to  have  their  spiritual  Peers,  so 
must  other  religious  bodies  now  introduced  into  a 
similar  relation  to  the  State.  Justice  would  require 
that  this  political  privilege  should  be  either  abolished 
or  extended ;  and  it  cannot  be  reasonably  doubted 
which  method  of  equalization  would  be  most  agree- 
able at  once  to  the  political  and  the  religious  senti- 
ment of  the  country.  It  is  not  our  purpose  to  fill  up 
this  outline.  We  sketch  it  simply  to  indicate  a 
course,  which,  however  strange  to  the  imagination 
now,  appears  to  us  more  practicable  —  no  less  than 
more  desirable  —  than  either  the  unyielding  reten- 
tion of  the  Church  as  it  is,  or  the  entire  repudiation 
of  all  national  interest  in  religion,  and  the  utter  sac- 
rifice, to  the  ends  of  mere  financial  economy,  of  the 
noble  ecclesiastical  endowments  inherited  from  for- 
mer times.  We  see  nothing  inconsistent  with  the 
sentiments  proper  to  the  devoutest  Christian  in  a 
recognition  of  religion,  left  to  its  free  development, 
as  the  highest  department  of  a  nation's  culture ;  and 
think  that  the  objection  to  this  springs  rather  from 
low  and  irreverent  notions  of  the  State,  than  from 
any  elevated  conception  of  the  offices  of  the  Church. 
Not  till  the  old  Greek  reverence  for  the  public  polity 
of  a  nation  shall  blend  itself  with  the  spirituality  of 


472  MARTINEAU'S    MISCELLANIES. 

the  Christian's  private  and  personal  faith,  will  the 
restless  antagonism  of  egotism  with  social  power  in 
secular  affairs,  of  individual  conscience  with  gener- 
al law  in  morals  and  religion,  cease,  and  pass  into  a 
harmony. 


THR    END. 


A     000 


6052,5 


'HI  Illl  H 
3 


